Through The Times Of War
by Felnezia Lloyd
Summary: [AU after HBP release] Hermione and Severus act on their newfound attractions towards each other. Harry and Draco struggle to repress the same. [SSHG] [DMHP]
1. Prologue

x-x-x-x-x-x-

AUTHOR'S NOTES: 

1.Formerly, this story was known as "_Love_ _or_ _Lust_".

2.I am sorry for being absent for so long.

3.This story will now be _more_ _detailed_ and contain more mature content and Yaoi. So you are forewarned.

4.The previous version has been deleted. Big thanks to all who had read and reviewed the unfinished version of "Love or Lust". Re-reading the lovely compliments spurred me on to re-posting this story – my first ever Severus-Hermione, although edited and re-edited many times.

5.If you have re-discovered this story, I hope you will review and tell me how you like this version. Basics are same, only written and formatted better… at least I hope.;)

6.Rating may change with time.

x-x-x-x-x-x-

**THROUGH THE TIMES OF WAR**

_: Felnezia Elaine Lloyd_

x-x-x-x-x-x-

**PROLOGUE**

x-x-x-x-x-x-

"A storm is due tonight."

Severus went over to the window and looked out. Tiara followed him and leaned gently against him.

"There is more than a storm due tonight," said Severus, his eyes searching the darkness for what his lover knew not.

Tiara sighed. "Severus, are you sure about this?"

"_Very_ sure," he replied, his eyes cool, his expression stony.

When Tiara didn't reply, he asked, "What do _you_ think about it?"

"I don't think about it," lied Tiara effectively – after all, she was a Slytherin. "All I want to say is that no matter what I am with you."

"Thank-you."

o-o-o-o-o-o-

"And you are?"

"Arthinus – Arthinus Snape."

"Are you related to Severus Snape?"

"I am his half-brother."

"And why should I believe what you have told me, kid?"

Arthinus frowned at the mocking tone of the blonde man in front of him. "I am not asking you to _believe_ it. I am asking for you-know-what."

"Shove off, kid."

"You'll regret this, Malfoy," said Arthinus angrily. "The Dark Lord…"

"You don't even know him!"

"As for that," said Arthinus, his eyes narrowing, "we'll see who rises to be his _heir_, won't we?"

Lucius Malfoy glared darkly at the fifteen year old boy walking away from him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-

"But, Sirius…"

"James, we've _got_ _to_ do this," said Sirius, frowning, "I don't want you and Lily to die!"

James sat down. "Well, I think we ought to wait longer… and see how things turn out."

Sirius glared at James. "But…"

"We wait for a year. If things only get worse, then I will go into hiding."

"A year! Are you crazy?"

"No, he isn't, Sirius," said Lily, coming in and standing behind her husband, "we don't want to… die before death."

"_Cowards die many times before their death, the valiant never taste of death but once…" _quoted Sirius softly.

"I am glad you read the book I gave you," said Lily, smiling.

Sirius sighed. "Very well! But I am staying nearby."

James frowned. "Sirius…"

"Or you are going into hiding."

"I don't get to do as _I_ want, do I?"

"No, mate. This is a matter of life and death."

o-o-o-o-o-o-

o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_Snivellus_ did _what_?"

"Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "He confessed to being a Death-Eater. He wants to turn over a new leaf."

James stared blankly at the roaring fire.

"He… but… this might all be a big setup on Voldemort's part, Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore sighed softly. "After getting to know the whole situation, James, I am bound to admit that Severus has returned from Darkness for good."

"How can you trust him?"

Dumbledore was exasperated, but tried not to show it. "There have been… incidents… which made him see the error of his ways."

_Incidents_…

Something clicked in James' memory.

"Tiara's dead! That is it, right? Moody brought in that information!"

"And I hope this information will not leave this room?"

"No…"

"Thank-you. And now, knowing all that I have told you, James, I trust you will help in making Sirius, Remus and Peter understand that it is very important that they treat Severus as a colleague. He has agreed to help us on great personal risk."

"I am not allowed to ask _what_, am I?"

"No."

o-o-o-o-o-o-

o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was just the beginning of a bitter winter and already, his life was turning cold… _so_ _cold_…

"Severus?"

The young man, dressed in black funeral clothes, turned to see his brother – half-brother – standing near the grave.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard about it just an hour ago…"

"From Malfoy, I presume?"

Arthinus shuddered at the coolness and hatred in Severus' voice.

"I am sorry."

"You didn't rape her. You didn't kill her. What are _you_ sorry for?"

"Severus…"

"The last thing I want is sympathy, Arthinus, and that might be yours or anybody else's."

"Can I come down to stay a few weeks at your manor?"

"I don't want company. Look here, I am not in a depression or anything. And I am not killing myself…"

"I have nowhere _else_ to go," said Arthinus shortly.

Severus laughed mirthlessly – harshly. "Couldn't you say that before? Anyway, I am not staying at the Manor. Stay there if you want to."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"I have got the job of the Potions Professor at Hogwarts."

"All that delving into cauldrons did pay off, huh?"

"Was there anything else?"

"No."

"Good. Get lost!"

Arthinus gave one last pity-filled look to his brother and then apparated to Serpentia, the ancient manor of the Snapes.

o-o-o-o-o-o-

o-o-o-o-o-o-

Severus looked anywhere but at the blonde man in front of him.

"Well?" asked Leonard impatiently, "aren't you going to tell me anything about it?"

"There is nothing to tell, Cain," said Severus. "Do you think the bs would have been alive if I knew who they were?"

"Considering that you are one of them…"

"Go to hell, Cain."

There was a tense silence between them.

"I am going back to Canada tomorrow," said Leonard, getting up, "but I will return some day, Severus. This is not the end."

"Most definitely it is not. Her death shall certainly be avenged – even if it is the _last_ thing I do."

"Is that a promise, Severus?"

After considering the question for some time, Severus replied, "Yes, it is a promise. And I will certainly fulfil it even if I have to give my life for it."

o-o-o-o-o-o-

o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_Malfoy_? You were stupid enough to go to _Malfoy_?"

Arthinus glared at the men in front of him. "Look here…"

"You made a mistake. However, we forgive you now," said the sandy-haired young man, "but from now on swear that you won't have too much contact with that Malfoy. He's too slippery. Now, Regulus here and I are pretty loyal in the ranks. Anything you want to know, contact us."

"Very well. You, at least, aren't a womanizer like that blonde idiot."

"And that in itself is a promising thing, isn't it?"

"It is. By the way, what is your name?"

"Crouch – Bartemius Aurelius Crouch."

Arthinus raised a brow in surprise, but made no comment. "Well, then, Crouch, it's a _deal_!"

"Indeed."

o-o-o-o-o-

o-o-o-o-o-o-

o-o-o-o-o-o-

**Fifteen years later…**

"_In case you haven't come to know of it until now, your best friend and comrade, Bartemius Crouch is no more. He had been Kissed by a Dementor – courtesy the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. _

"_However, knowing you, Arthinus, I trust that soon the death of such a loyal servant of our Cause will be avenged._

"_The good news is that the Dark Lord is back._

"_Return to England as soon as possible. Your services are required."_

o-o-o-o-o-

o-o-o-o-o-


	2. Chapter 1

-x-x-x-x-x-

_CHAPTER 1_

_OF OLD ACQUAINTANCES AND – CARING_

_**-x-x-x-x-x-**_

**I**

_That girl was so annoying at times!_

Severus rubbed his head as the door closed a bit too loudly behind the Gryffindor know-it-all. She really was extremely insufferable!

However, presently he felt quite exhausted – more than exhausted, in fact. He felt as if his limbs were being torn from his body.

But he knew that he had to go. He couldn't stop.

Not now.

Years ago, he had made a promise and now it was time to keep it. He was a Snape. And though he was no great believer in his family-name, he had enough pride to not to back on his given word. It was more of duty than desire now, but revenge it would be.

He transformed and slithered down the secret passageway that led out from the dungeons to the Forbidden Forest.

It was exceptionally silent and dark in the Forbidden Forest tonight, Severus observed. If he didn't know better, he would say that death was lurking near the edges of the forest.

_Stop that! _He told himself wearily. It was high time that he gave up these fanciful thoughts.

Once he was out of Hogwarts, he transformed back to a human being and disapparated, unaware of a pair of curious – somewhat scared – brown eyes watching him.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**II**

_He_ _just_ _appeared_ – _and_ _then_ _disappeared_! Thought Hermione, still staring blankly at the spot from where she had seen her Potions Professor disapparate.

_He might have apparated here_, she reasoned, _but I know for a fact he hadn't. I had just left him in the dungeons – and you cannot apparate or disapparate on Hogwarts grounds. Moreover, the way he appeared there did not seem like he had apparated. It was more like he had transformed from an Animagus form. Is he an illegal Animagus? _

It was a Hogsmeade weekend. But Hermione, having a lot of extra reading to do as the N.E.W.T.s were there next year, had decided not to spend more than one hour at the village. Hence, her early return to the school.

Professor Snape had been his usual nasty self when he found out that she had come to ask questions even on a holiday. But Hermione, who was, by now, used to his temper, persisted in her enquiry about the Wolfsbane Potion. She had learnt that for Snape, being mean was more like a habit than intention. She tried not to take too much offence, but well, there is only so much of a thing one can tolerate.

However, at that time Hermione had had no idea that the Potions Master had been mad at more things than her. Something else had been weighing on his mind too, she figured out, when she saw him suddenly appear outside the Hogwarts Gate and then disapparate.

_The_ _Potions_ _Master_ _might not be as skilled with his wand as some_. _However_,thought Hermione, _he_ _more_ _than_ _made_ _up_ _for_ _it_ _with_ _all_ _the_ _wandless_ _magic_ _he_ _knew_.

Pushing down the urge to go out and investigate further, Hermione turned her steps towards the library. By Merlin! Even _she_ hadn't anticipated that there would be such a lot of hard work involved in studying for N.E.W.T.s. She won't for even a minute believe Harry's and Ron's words that she was making the work harder for herself.

Well, how was she supposed to get the top-ranking N.E.W.T.s if she didn't read at least four extra books concerning each topic? Harry and Ron were just lazy!

-x-x-x-x-x-

**III**

"And you are from?"

"Canada," answered the tall blonde man.

"Very well, your papers are all in order, Mr. Cain. You can go on."

"Why such tight security?" Leonard couldn't help asking.

The Ministry official stared at him wide-eyes. "You really don't know?"

"Considering that I was buried in my work in a secluded part of Yellowstone for the last fifteen years, I don't."

"Must be one of those maniacal researchers…" muttered the pale faced man. Aloud, he said, "You-Know-Who's power is spreading rapidly. Even in your secluded place you ought to know that he is back."

Leonard did nothing more than to raise a brow. "Indeed?"

"Indeed. Now get going. There are seven wizards from South Africa due in five minutes."

-x-x-x-x-x-

**IV**

"That will be seven Galleons and three Knuts," said the hooded shop-keeper of the apothecary in the Knockturn Alley.

The man, dressed in grey, pocketed his purchase, but did not go out.

"Was there something else you wanted, sir?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

"I wanted information."

"You've bought what you wanted. Now leave!" The shop-keeper's voice was unnaturally high.

"I don't think so," and saying so, the man sat down near him. "Since your brother is dead…"

The shop-keeper shuddered and scooted away from the man. "WHO ARE YOU?"

"…won't it be wise to return to the Noble House of the Black?"

"WHO ARE YOU?"

"Really, Regulus! Don't tell me that you really don't recognize me!"

The shop-keeper pulled back his hood and stared in disbelief at the man in front of him. "But… but…there had been no reply…"

-x-x-x-x-x-

**V**

It was long past midnight. Deep down – very, very, very deep down – Harry knew that he was not supposed to do this, that he might get into trouble for doing this.

But he was doing this anyway.

Really, it was becoming a habit with him!

"Potter?"

He stopped as he heard the hesitant voice. Well, that sounded like Malfoy all right.

"Yes, I am here. And if you will get me into trouble, Malfoy, I swear…"

"This is no place for chatting, Potter," said Malfoy, grasping his arm tightly, "come here!"

And before Harry could do a thing, he was being pulled into a secret recess near the Transfiguration classroom. He vaguely wondered how _he_ didn't come to know about it.

"Talk!" said Harry, fingering the wand in his pocket.

"Look here, Potter," said Malfoy, his eyes darkening with anger, "you don't treat me like dirt!"

"If you think I will treat you like anything else," said Harry, "then you are wrong."

Malfoy scowled fiercely at him. Harry just leaned against the wall.

Taking a deep breath, Malfoy said, "I don't want to be a Death-Eater, Potter."

A stunned silence followed this revelation. Harry stared at Malfoy as if he had grown three heads resembling those of a certain dog "Fluffy". Meanwhile, Malfoy turned away from Harry's shocked gaze and looked blankly at the wall opposite.

"You are kidding!" Harry blurted out, sounding somewhat stupid.

"_Sure_, Potter," said Malfoy sarcastically.

"But you are a Malfoy…"

Malfoy turned round in a sudden motion. "Yeah, I am a Malfoy! From the long line of evil Malfoys! Can't have warm human blood in my veins, can I, Potter?"

Harry was about to say something, when Malfoy held up his hand. "It is hard enough saying it once, Potter," he said furiously, "why can't you just believe me. From what I have heard of you, you are a pretty trusting sort of person."

Ignoring his words, Harry said, "I am not the person you should be talking to."

"Yeah, I should go to the Dark Lord and ask for my death certificate before the execution."

"Cut out the sarcasm, Malfoy, we've got to talk to _Dumbledore_."

-x-x-x-x-x-

**VI**

Hermione was so engrossed in her studies that she did not notice it when the Potions Master stumbled into the library through a secret passageway, which none had been able to discover.

And it seemed that even the Potions Master was unaware of the fact that Hermione was studying there, just two yards away.

But they had a common onlooker – someone who had just entered the library.

"_Severus_?"

-x-x-x-x-x-

At first, it startled him – _very_ badly indeed. Maybe he was hearing voices? A side-effect of his weakness? Was delusion a side-effect of illness? However, when he looked up, he knew he was doing no such thing.

Leonard Cain was indeed standing in front of him, looking, perhaps, as shocked as he was. And _oh_ _Merlin_! The newest bane of his existence had just looked up from her dark corner. He was seriously considering slipping some poison in Miss Granger's pumpkin juice in near future.

"_Professor_ _Snape_!"

-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione had been happily engrossed in solving the long Arithmancy problems when out of nowhere she heard someone call her Potions Master's first name.

It had startled her a little, as things always did when she was too much immersed in an activity.

Turning round, she saw that her Potions Master was leaning against a chair, and though there were no visible signs of wounds, she could feel that he was undergoing immense pain and that he was fatigued.

"Professor Snape!" she gasped and quickly went towards him, not noticing the stranger who had entered the library.

"Miss Granger," snarled Snape, "I certainly do _not_ need your help! Go back to your dormitory or it will be twenty points from Gryffindor for disobedience!"

Hermione almost glared at him. "You are very ill, Professor. I cannot just… _run_ _away_!" She sounded scandalized.

"Indeed, no!"

Maybe fate was bent on killing her due to shock, she thought as she turned to see a tall, blonde man behind her.

"Well, Miss…"

"Granger," supplied Hermione.

"Miss Granger," said the stranger, "please inform the Headmaster…"

"No, you don't!" interrupted Snape angrily.

"… that his Potions Master needs immediate medical attention," said the blonde man firmly.

"You will do _no_ _such_ _thing_!"

Hermione glanced between the two men, chewing on her lower lip. She glanced at her Potions Master, struggling to breathe. She didn't need long to make her decision.

Just as she was about to go, she felt a strong hand grip her arm and pull her back. Seeing Snape as he was – weak and tired – she could have little imagined that he would muster so much strength.

"TWENTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR FOR DISOBEDIENCE!"

Hermione winced as Snape pulled her back towards him. She was momentarily crushed against his chest, but steadied herself quickly. Luckily for her, the blonde man intervened.

"I think you are too much in pain, Severus," said the blonde man lightly, pulling away Hermione's arm from Snape's grip.

"And _you_ – _you_ have _no_ business here! _Get_ _out_, _Cain_!"

"I do not accept orders," said Cain, placing himself between Snape and Hermione. He glanced at her and then nodded towards the door.

Hermione understood and hurried out before Snape could take more points off Gryffindor.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**VII**

_That_ _girl_ _is_ _definitely_ _getting_ _poisoned_!

Severus scowled at no one or nothing at particular because no one was about and in the dreary darkness of his room, nothing was visible.

He had not told Dumbledore till now that the spying was taking a toll on his health. He had merely continued with his job – _his_ _penance_.

It had made him feel guilty – the way Dumbledore had looked at him. Again and again he had told Dumbledore – _lied_ to him – that he was fine. He knew Dumbledore would never let him continue with this if he ever got to know about… what was happening to him.

And now he had.

And he had forbidden him from further spying until he recovered his health.

And it was all Granger's fault!

He was surely going to kill her.

-x-x-x-x-x-

And yet, when the same Miss Granger, whom he had spent the night cursing, appeared in the morning with a message from Dumbledore, he felt exasperated sans feeling of murder.

She was scared of him. He could see it in her eyes. She bit on her lower lip while she waited for an answer from him. Finally, as he handed her the reply, she broke the cold silence between them.

"I am sorry."

"You ought to be."

"I am sorry that you had to… _suffer_ _all_ _this_."

Severus stood up suddenly, his eyes flashing. "I do not want _your_ _pity_, girl!"

"I do not pity you, sir," she said. Then taking a deep breath, added, "I merely want to say thank-you for everything you have done for our cause."

Severus scowled at her. "And what have I done?"

"You suffered silently…"

"Not for the cause," said Snape softly, sitting down.

He was prepared to rebuke Granger when she would voice another question. But the question didn't come. Instead, she just looked at him with an indecipherable expression and then with a quiet "Good-morning" went away.

-x-x-x-x-x-

After Granger, he had to endure an hour's presence of his old acquaintance. Minerva followed Cain after lunch and Dumbledore visited twice before Severus finally retired early to bed in hopes of privacy. He was a very private man who preferred loneliness to company. He didn't understand why these people wanted to bother him.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Granger came again next day, her excuse being that she wanted him to look through the extra credit work she was doing in Potions. And then again on Tuesday to ask him for some books for reference reading; Wednesday was no better – she had come to return one of the books she was done with.

On Thursday, Severus decided that he could take it no more.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**VIII**

Hermione groaned as she put off the alarm on the Thursday morning and glanced at the clock. 4:30.

Well, there was no one to blame but herself. She had set up the alarm clock early so that she could finish the second book which Snape had lent her so that she could visit him on the pretext of returning the book.

The plain explanation was that she was worried about Snape. She was also somewhat scared about him. She knew that he hated to be lying around and "_resting_" (as Dumbledore put it) and doing nothing. She knew that he disliked the fact that Cain had taken over as the Potions Professor for the week. She felt that under the circumstances he might do something…_stupid_… like go out spying even though he had been forbidden to do so.

She was thinking of Sirius then. Sirius, whom, on remembering, her heart still twisted with pain. And then there had been so many others who had died. She didn't want Snape to be the one to add to the list, no matter how mean he was.

Unlike Harry, who now hated Snape with a great intensity, she cared for the Potions Master. She felt the need to show that someone cared for his well-being. Even though Snape had always been averse towards the idea of "_caring_", she couldn't imagine how a person would be happy without the knowledge that someone thought of them. It would kill her to be so lonely. So she felt that the Potions Master ought to be made known that though people were scared for him, there were others who thought of him as a human-being and as the brave man he was.

She didn't quite understand what he had meant when he had told her that whatever he was doing was not for the cause. She dare not ask him. Not that she was so afraid of him, but she would hate to sound like a curious cat. Well, okay, maybe she could put up with _that_. Maybe it was just that she didn't want to be the one to bring up bad memories in him. Merlin! Did shecare _that_ much?

With thoughts along these lines in mind, Hermione set out for the dungeons after breakfast.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"What is it now, Miss Granger?"

"Your book, sir, I…"

"You've finished reading that? So soon?" his voice was edged with disbelief.

"Yes, sir. There was a lot of time for it. We received no Potions home-work."

Snape scowled darkly. "_Indeed_? Seems like I will have to talk to Cain about that."

"Your book…"

"Keep it there, Granger – and _get_ _out_!"

Hermione kept the book on the table and lingered a little.

"Sir, are you…"

"_Get_ _out_!"

"I just…"

"For the last time, Granger, I do not want your _pity_!"

Hermione winced slightly as Snape's voice grew harsher.

"And I did say that I do not pity you, sir."

"Then why are you here every morning? Or is Dumbledore sending you to keep an eye on me because I turned the wards against him?"

Hermione looked up, shocked. "_You_… _you_ _turned_ _the_ _wards_ _against_ _the_ _Headmaster_?"

"He annoyed me too much with that sherbet lemons of his," said Snape, not meaning it, of course, hence not meeting her eye and staring at the book.

Hermione wondered if her fears had come true. Was Snape still going out? _Spying_? After all, he did say that he was not spying and suffering because of the Good side. Maybe he had some _personal_ _vengeance_?

Whatever it was, Hermione decided, it was not good for him.

"_But_, _sir_…"

"I think I told you to get out," cut in Snape dryly.

Hermione very much wanted to know what was going on. But looking at Snape's black eyes, she was sure that this wasn't just the time for it. Sighing, she moved towards the door.

"And, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Owl me the books next time. Or if you don't understand a decently put message, I do not want to see more of you until Monday when I will have to. I do not want any company."

"That's… _that's_ _absurd_," said Hermione, unthinkingly.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "What is?"

Hermione blushed. "Nothing… good-morning, sir."

And she hurried off before Snape could humiliate her further – or she could humiliate herself in front of him further.

-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-

**IX**

"Aren't you going to report to the Dark Lord?"

Arthinus cast a disdainful look at Regulus Black. "You have no right to question me about that, Black, considering that you were the one to play dead because you were scared!"

Regulus' face reddened with anger and embarrassment. "You stop judging people, Arthinus. It is not as if you have anything to make yourself useful about."

"At least I have kept up with everything that has been going on – even though I have been far away. I heard that your cousin killed your brother. _No_ _family_ _unity_?" Arthinus laughed mockingly.

"Who are you to talk of family unity? Considering that your brother turned away from the Dark Lord – and he works for the Mudblood-lover Dumbledore! Don't think that it is a secret now. We all know that he does it."

"Yes," said Arthinus, lying down on the couch, "but you people never figure out _what_ he does. So many of you cannot defeat even that one Potions Master! I think in that respect, my brother is better than yours."

"I never said he was better than Severus. After all, he was Harry Potter's godfather."

Arthinus sat up suddenly. "And you didn't make any use of it?"

"What could I have done?"

"A lot – _if_ you had brains. But I forget… _the_ _brains_… well, he's gone."

Regulus' lips curled in a sneer. "Yeah, he had a hard death – your lover did."

"Don't talk about him with your dirty tongue!" said Arthinus hotly.

"_Ashamed_ _of_ _him_, _are_ _you_?"

In a fraction of a second, Arthinus had whipped out his wand and pointed it to Regulus' throat. "Look, I am not having you talking about him in that way – got it? If you do, you're dead!"

"You won't kill _me_!"

"And why not?"

"No one else can provide you with information about your dear half-brother."

Arthinus raised a brow in question. "He thinks I am dead – as does everyone. A Dark Arts spell it was… _if they don't know you are there, they don't see you_…"

"And what have you learnt about my brother?" asked Arthinus, lowering his wand.

"Well, not so much. It is dangerous going out in daylight. However, I do know that his defences must be weak right now. I heard that they had got some Cain as temporary Potions Master."

The name caught Arthinus' interest. "_Cain_? _He_ is back, too? Well, well, well, isn't that news?"

-x-x-x-x-x-

**X**

Draco Malfoy stood in the shadow of the stands, watching the Gryffindor Quidditch Team practise for its upcoming match against Ravenclaw. However, his eyes were tracing just a solitary figure – the slim, lithe figure of the Captain with a shock of black hair and his glasses shining in the full moon's light.

He wasn't too much surprised when Dumbledore had administered Veritaserum to him. He was rather expecting that. What had surprised him was the quick acceptance of Harry Potter. He admitted that he was wary of the almost cordial way in which Potter behaved with him now. As if they had been friends all along. _As if he had not refused the hand of friendship that he had first extended to him. _

Even after such a long time, that incident made him feel like a loser. There were very little things that affected Draco, but when they did, they settled deep down for eternity.

He wasn't sure about his own feelings towards Potter. At times, he hated him – still. And yet, at other times, he found that he was glad that he was on Potter's side.

Before he could contemplate further on his emotions, his eyes suddenly met the green ones behind a pair of glasses.

He noticed that Potter had caught the Snitch (no big deal, that, even _he _accepted that now) and was now 'strutting' (as Draco had termed it). Well, he might as well leave now. Potter's idiotic stunts made him nauseous.

As he turned, he more than half expected Potter to call out his name, which Potter did.

"Malfoy?"

"Potter."

"What are you doing here?"

"And what authority do you have to question me?"

He could feel Potter frown, even though he stood with his back to him.

"Maybe I am asking you for your own good, Malfoy."

"Go fool someone dumb enough to believe you, Potter," said Draco coolly, "and leave me alone."

"What is with you Slytherins and being alone?" muttered Potter.

Draco did not make a reply but started moving towards the castle.

Harry Potter did not follow him but with his eyes, which plainly showed the confusion he felt.

-x-x-x-x-x-


	3. Chapter 2

-o-o-o-o-o-

**CHAPTER 2**

**OF SECRETS, STRANGE THOUGHTS AND TIMES OF WAR**

-o-o-o-o-o-

**I**

"Hermione?"

"_No_, Harry, I am _not_ going to help you with that essay! _Honestly_, how will you ever manage your N.E.W.T.s if you go on in this manner?" 

"It's not about the essay."

"Oh." Hermione looked up from her Defence Against Dark Creatures text. She was a bit perturbed at finding lines of worry marring Harry's brow. 

"Well?"

"Okay, I don't know how to go about this…"

"What is it about – or maybe, _who_?" 

Harry stared hard at the elegant blue feather quill in Hermione's hand.

"Draco."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "That will be _Malfoy's first name_, right?"

"Yes."

"And… what about…_Draco_?"

Harry sighed and finally meeting her eyes said, "You will not – no matter what – tell this to Ron, okay?"

"Harry…"

_"Okay?"_

"Uh…right."

_"Right_. Next, you will not tell this to anybody else either."

"Where is this leading to, Harry?"

"Okay?"

"Yes, I agree, but…"

"It's about… the Order," said Harry, his voice lowered to barely a whisper.

Hermione nodded, shooting around a cautious look. There was no one near their table. It was Friday night – and the day before Valentine's Day. 

She was startled to find that Harry had pulled out his wand. "Harry, what…"

She didn't quite catch the quickly mumbled words, but she could see that he had put on the Privacy Charm – the best against eavesdroppers – visible or invisible.

"There is a traitor in the Order."

Hermione had to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. _Oh Merlin!_ A traitor in the only truly able association against Voldemort! 

"But how do _you_ know, Harry?"

"I am a member of the Order, Hermione. I have been one ever since my sixteenth birthday."

This caused Hermione's eyebrows to go up further – if that was possible. "You never told… well, I perceive you were sworn to secrecy?"

"Yeah. But that is only one part of it."

"But then… how come you are telling this to _me_? And what was that about not telling Ron? And… _Draco_, Harry?"

"One thing at a time. First, why I am telling this to you is that because I want you to help me keep an eye over Ron… let _me _finish before _you_ speak, Hermione! Okay, second, well, you did observe that Ron has been very closed up this year… I know that doesn't mean that he is a traitor, but a Weasley is a traitor and we know it." 

"Snape?" shot Hermione, narrowing her eyes.

Harry nodded. "He saw someone with red hair who was being addressed as "Weasley" during a Dark Revel. I have no idea about how he gets to know this stuff although he is the most reliable among all – that is what Dumbledore says."

"Okay, well… so what about my third question, _Draco_?"

"Would you stop that if I start calling him _Malfoy_?" asked Harry dryly. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You've got to admit it is strange hearing his first name from your mouth, Harry."

"Okay. _Draco_. Well, he might soon become a member of the Order. That is it. Don't ask me anything. I promised him I won't spill out his secrets."

"You are doing that already." 

"This is not a secret. Dumbledore knows it too." 

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. Of course _Dumbledore_ knew it!

There was a long silence between them. Hermione was going over all that Harry had told her.

Suddenly Harry said, "I think Snape is wrong – he _has _to be!"

Hermione flinched at the vehemence in his voice.

"Harry…"

"I mean _Weasley_! They are the best people in this world! Well, everyone except Percy…"

Hermione and Harry glanced at each other.

"You think so?" asked Harry quietly.

Hermione shook her head. "He is rather like Mr. Crouch, Senior, I think. Not necessarily evil."

"Something like Umbridge? Not a Death-Eater, but an enemy nonetheless."

"Well… er… maybe."

"Not necessarily the Death-Eater type? Well, perhaps not…"

"There has to be some family traits in him, hasn't there?"

Harry shrugged. "Snape has to be wrong, you know. Or maybe he is doing this _on purpose."_

_"Really_, Harry Potter!"

"I mean it is _Snape_ who says so. What if he himself is the traitor and wants to disrupt our work and…"

Hermione interrupted him. "Harry, he risks his life out there doing Merlin knows what and you are suspecting him!"

"How do we know what he does out there?"

Harry's hatred of Snape had not lessened a bit but only grown since Sirius' death.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think that he can be the traitor, Harry. If Dumbledore believes him…"

"Dumbledore can be wrong," said Harry, temper rising. He got up and removed the Privacy Charm.

"Thanks for listening, Hermione. I sort of did want to get it off me…"

Hermione patted his hand understandingly.

"And Ron…"

She nodded slightly.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**II**

"You really didn't know that the Dark Lord is back?"

Cain glared at the Potions Master. "I was…" 

"Whatever," interrupted Snape.

There was a short silence between them.

"There was a Death-Eater meeting yesterday."

"You didn't go, I suppose?" 

"I didn't know Dumbledore had… taken measures to ensure that I won't go."

"Good for you."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

"No," answered Cain with a wry smile. In a more serious tone, he added, "I have to chaperone the kids in Hogsmeade tomorrow."

Snape stood up as if he had received a shock. "By Merlin!"

"What is it, Severus?"

"Hogsmeade – tomorrow – Death-Eater meeting yesterday! Putting two and two together, I would say that there was a connection between this."

Cain considered this. "While it is _possible_, it might be a coincidence."

"It won't hurt to take precautions," hissed Snape angrily. "Especially with that dunderhead Potter!" 

"Potter is not a dunderhead, and no, it won't hurt to take precautions. I will go and talk to Dumbledore right now." 

"I am coming, too."

-o-o-o-o-o- 

-o-o-o-o-o-

**III**

'This is ridiculous,' thought Hermione, as she glared at the Arithmancy problem she had been working on for the last few minutes – which was indeed saying something because, according to her standards, it was definitely a simple problem.

Her mind had been revolving around what Harry had told her. Much as she believed that it wasn't Ron or any other Weasley, she found that she could, in no case blame the Potions Master. Hadn't she seen his desperation to fight the Dark with her own eyes? Well, it might be that it was something more on personal grounds for him, but still. Somehow, she could not believe that he would be wrong on purpose. 

She put down her school books and decided that she could read something light for now. Something she won't feel stupid at if she didn't pay attention. But what? She had already read all the novels she had brought from home.

Sighing, she got up and decided to go out for a walk. There was still some time left before the curfew – better put that to good use. Maybe the cold February air would help her clear her track of thoughts. 

-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione wondered who Cain was to Snape. Snape had recognized him and by the first looks didn't really like him. But with passage of time, Hermione had observed that there was a formal amicability between the two men like acquaintances who cared a bit more than just not wanting the other to die. Thinking, Hermione sat down near the lake and cast a Warming Charm around herself.

As there was chill in the air and snow hadn't fully melted, everything was still and quiet. The students mostly didn't venture out in the cold. Even the Squid had decided to rest in the warmer waters nearer to the bottom of the lake. Somehow, in such peaceful settings, it seemed impossible to think of the turmoil in the world beyond the walls of Hogwarts. It was so safe and comfortable here. It seemed as if there was no reason to fear anything.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione was startled out of her reveries by the voice of the feared Potions Master. She hurriedly scrambled up and faced him. "Good evening, sir."

He inclined his head almost imperceptibly. "May I enquire what you are doing here at this time of night, Miss Granger?"

"I was…" Hermione stopped. _What could she possibly say_?

"Breaking school rules, which cannot go unpunished; now can it, Miss Granger?" 

Hermione didn't reply. _One grows used even to hatred, I guess_, she thought. _Though I wish he didn't hate me so._

"Ten points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew, Miss Granger. Now follow me."

_Lucky I made it out without a detention_, she thought, scowling slightly at the Potions Master's back. It wasn't as if she didn't know that he was on their side. She had known since the end of the fourth year – since the beginning, as she often thought of it. However, she was just too well aware that it was far from the beginning. It had begun more than fifty years ago when a certain arrogant Muggle Riddle had left his lover with an unborn child – _his_ child – just because she was a witch. _Oh_ _Merlin_! If only he had known then what _that_ would have culminated into. 

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

Severus didn't quite understand the need for telling Miss Granger what they feared on the afternoon of the morrow. He admitted (to none but himself and that too, quite deep down) that Miss Granger was quite an exceptional witch. But that did not mean that she would be able to fight Death-Eaters. Not without getting someone killed. Gryffindors had the tendency to make a mess out of the simplest solutions, especially if they were aware of everything beforehand.

However, here he was, much against his wishes and by Dumbledore's orders, telling the bushy-haired Gryffindor the danger that hung over the head of the students tomorrow.

At the end of his speech, Miss Granger launched, as per his expectations, into a questionnaire.

"But, sir, won't it just be easier to cancel the trip to the village?"

Sensible. But hadn't the girl heard of the old wizard saying, "_The_ _easier_ _way_ _is_ _usually_ _the_ _more_ _difficult_ _one_."

"We _could_ do that, Miss Granger. We _could_ do a lot of other things for that matter. But running away isn't always the solution. We need a confrontation to measure the height of their power. We need an assessment of the enemy, you could say. The Dark Lord has hitherto refrained from a direct attack so we are not fully aware of the volume of… his supporters."

How he did not use the word "Death-Eaters", did not escape Hermione.

The girl nodded. He was glad that he didn't have to explain it deeper. Though this was now his life, he still didn't like it. _Treachery, spying, hatred, death, murder, rape, lies, mutilation, torture, prejudices, old customs born of hate, rituals, darkness… unconquerable_ _darkness_… He still hated it though he would rather be dead than not follow it to the end. It was his nemesis and his salvation.

"There will be the Aurors, there?"

"No, we don't want anyone in the Ministry to get a wind of this. There are many Death-Eaters in the Ministry – Lucius Malfoy for one."

"Only Order members?" 

"Wearing glamour charms."

"Harry would know about it, won't he?"

"Considering he is the target, Miss Granger, I would think that is most reasonable. Although I expect you to not to tell this to anybody."

"I won't," said Hermione, indignant that he would suspect her of letting out secrets.

"And anyone would include Mr. Weasley."

Hermione sighed. She wished they won't suspect Ron. It was _Ron_, for Merlin's sake! How could _he_ be a Death-Eater?

"Yes, sir, I know."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "You know – _what?"_

Hermione wondered if Harry had told her of his own accord or by permission from Dumbledore. She didn't want him getting into trouble just because he trusted her and wanted comfort from a friend.

"That I ought to maintain secrecy, not tell Ron and all," she said, avoiding his eyes.

Snape narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Hermione clasped her hands tightly, looking down.

He got up from his chair and came round to her side of the table. "I think, Miss Granger, that you know more than that. I think you know more than you ought to. Might I enquire how?"

"I don't quite know what you mean, Professor," she said stiffly, knowing that he was standing right behind her chair. It made lying to him easier, though. One could never look into his eyes and lie. It just didn't seem possible. Or maybe it was _just_ _her_… 

Snape put his hands on the arms of the chair and leaned forward until his face was level with Hermione's.

"You know, Miss Granger, I have been a spy for so long that it is now my second nature to differentiate lies from truth. So better answer my question."

Hermione shivered involuntarily feeling his breath on her neck. She was staring intently at her hands, but she could feel his eyes on her face, trying to read her emotions. His proximity unsettled her. She wondered if he could hear her heart beat.

Severus' office then was just lighted by three candles in the candlestick on the table. It was positioned such that it illuminated Miss Granger's face. Her brown eyes seemed so liquid that for some moments he was entranced by them. It felt as if he had never seen such beautiful eyes, though there was nothing different about them and they were pretty ordinary eyes. His eyes travelled down the her brown curls, nestling what light they could get in that almost dark room, he vaguely thought that he had never seen that golden chain around her neck before. The gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed… he shut his eyes tight for a moment.

He had meant to intimidate her… frighten her into saying what he suspected she knew but she ought not to have known… But things were going a bit wrong here. He was being ensnared by her innocent, guileless, virginal charms.

Hermione sat there like a statue. It seemed as if she had lost all her power of reasoning, thinking and questioning for a moment. It was so quiet… so surreal… as if she was in the middle of a queer dream. She had those once in a while. But never had the Potions Master so strongly featured in them. In his present stance, he seemed so threatening… so powerful… as if he could easily crush her… she had to tell him the truth or he would so harm her…

_Stop that!_ She told herself angrily,_ he is not going to do anything of the kind. He is just scaring you. You're not scared of him. You are a Gryffindor! _

She got up abruptly, not looking at him. 

Snape was momentarily startled, but he was glad to be brought out of the stupor her propinquity had placed him into. He, too, straightened up.

"I think I should go back to my dormitory, sir," she said hurriedly, releasing the breath she didn't knew she had been holding.

"This will be reported to the Headmaster, Miss Granger," said Snape, his voice back to the low and dangerous, "you are in possession of classified information of the Order. Something you are not supposed to know at all."

"I don't know what you are talking about," said Hermione, staring at the floor, "Goodnight, sir."

And before he could say a word, she ran out of his office and hurried towards her dormitory, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the corridor.

"Goodnight, indeed, Miss Granger! You'll see it won't turn out into anything good, though," whispered Snape, more to himself and the dungeon walls than to anyone else. 

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

**IV**

Hermione couldn't sleep that night. Not out of fear for she was no longer as scared of the Death-Eaters as she was a year ago. She had almost grown used to this – accepted it like a normal way of life, well, for _now_, at least.

Her sleeplessness was the result of worry – worry about Harry, Ron, Ginny and all the other students whose lives would be exposed to danger tomorrow. It had to be done and she understood why. But still… it scared her so!

She brought up her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. As she rested her chin on her interwoven fingers, her unruly curls brushed against her hands. She shivered slightly and she knew it was not from the cold for she had put Heating Charms all around her bed. It was the feel of _his_ breath on her neck.

It was so _odd_. She wondered _why_ she was so affected by it. It wasn't something extraordinary or anything.

Sitting in the darkness of her dorm, with nothing but the moonlight to break through the blanket of darkness, Hermione felt her mind wander back to the Potions Master. It was not a new situation. Ever since she had discovered the gravity of Severus Snape's work, she had spent many a nights in thinking about him.

He was a man who had affected her much throughout her school-life. Her amazing performance in Potions was mainly due to him. She had no particular passion for Potions, not anymore than she had for all her studies. However, it was the deep desire to please the biased Potions Master that made her work the hardest and best for Potions. But he had not responded. He had not acknowledged her hard work. He had done nothing to show his appreciation, for Hermione knew that he appreciated her. It was just an impulsive feeling, but it was there.

But this year had not gone so well. Maybe teachers were just tired of praising her. Maybe they thought that she didn't need any more encouragement or praise. Whatever the case, this year none of the teachers had given her the "special" compliment, which they usually did until this year. It wasn't something anybody but her had noticed. She reasoned that she already did do quite well in her studies, they felt no need to show that they appreciated it.

It unsettled her. She mostly worked for her grades. More than the desire of gaining knowledge was the desire to excel, the desire to show that _she_ was an exceptional witch despite her birth. She was not ashamed of who she was. She respected and loved her parents – Muggles or not wasn't a fact she bothered about.

And in all this turmoil, her work hadn't been up to the mark. _That_ was a calamity! Worse than a casualty! Hermione had been distraught over it (Harry and Ron had put it down to "that time of the month"). And in all this chaos, Hermione realized that Professor Snape was same as ever. Instead of disheartening her, this was an anchor to her. _Someone_ was still the same old person she knew, someone to rely on to be the same even on the doomsday.

But now it wasn't the same. Not after she had seen him so weak and injured that night. Not after she had known how truly tough his life was. There was something different about her feelings towards the Potions Master. He had made her realize her things. Things like the grades weren't the most important things in the world. Things like good grades won't help her survive in this dark world. Things like how much more there was to the world than her own little shell.

And for that she was grateful to him. She treated him with much more respect. She did not resent him for his over-strict censure of her essays. She could see beyond the partial teacher to the man who was dying day by day of his own will.

Tonight, in the quiet of his office, another aspect of the mysterious Potions Master had been revealed to her. His power – his power of intimidation. She wondered if he interrogated the captives of the Order. He would certainly be very successful if he did.

Parvati stirred murmuring something in the bed next to hers. It brought Hermione back to the reality, out of the sanctuary of her thoughts. Breathing deeply, Hermione stretched out her legs. Yawning and stretching her arms, she lay down to catch a few hours' sleep. It won't do to be weary and sleepy if she were to face the Death-Eaters tomorrow.

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

Severus Snape was no better. It wasn't often that his work and thoughts related to the same allowed him the luxury of delicious sleep. Tonight was no better. However, the reason tonight was a different. It was a reason he had paid no special attention to. Not until some days ago when he had gone over hundred and one ways to kill Hermione Granger, partly to amuse himself, and partly because he couldn't sleep due to the pain.

Presently, he was not planning to kill Hermione Granger for she had done no great harm to him. No, he decided, what she had done was no _great_ harm, it was a _very_, _very_ _great_ harm. She had made him see her as a woman.

Oh Merlin! What was he _thinking_? She was a _Gryffindor_! She was a _know_-_it_-_all_! She was a _Muggle_-_born_! She was a load of other things. One of them was that she was his student.

Another part of his mind pointed out that it was his own self that had made him observe in more than impersonal manner, her _eyes_, her _curls_, her _breasts_…

Snape sat up, rubbing his head. It was true that he had led a life of celibacy for the past fifteen years. But it was by choice. Abstinence from indulging desires, in his opinion, was the best form of penance for past sins. But what was it culminating into? Was he so _perverted_ as to see his students in a wrong way? Surely, it wasn't as if needed to get laid. _No_, Severus Snape was above such petty desires. His life had more purpose than fooling around with one-night stands. He had a _job_ to do, spying _duties_ and _promises_ to keep and in fulfilment of it all, he knew that he was playing a major role in saving the world from ultimate doom.

Amidst this, he did not have time for… well, being a dirty old man for that was exactly how he felt right now. Had he no sense? The girl was sixteen! A minor still! No, he decided, he had better things to – something which won't lower his self-esteem. Severus Snape had, as yet, not turned immoral concerning sexual principles and he wasn't about to do that now or ever.

By Merlin! The girl wasn't even a beauty!

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

**V**

"They are planning to attack Hogsmeade tomorrow," said Regulus, taking off his cloak.

Arthinus was lying down on the couch, one leg draped over its back. Without opening his eyes, he said, "Indeed? Well, I think that the standards have fallen. They are attacking children. Next thing you know they will be going for new-born babes."

"No, the Dark Lord has done that already and failed," muttered Regulus, moving towards the liquor cabinet.

Arthinus laughed mirthlessly. "On whose side are we, Regulus?"

"Don't ask me. I gave up ages and ages ago. I am still scared to go back to the Dark Lord."

"Not that he would accept _you_."

"That is the reason, too. Whiskey or brandy?"

"I am feeling sick tonight. I don't want anything to drink."

Regulus shrugged and sat down on the chair near the fireplace.

"I think I will pay my dear brother a visit this summer."

"You'll be termed a traitor, too."

"Why should _they _know where I am?"

Regulus shrugged. "These things have a queer way of going about. Things _always_ go wrong!"

Arthinus snorted. "Aren't you going to help make them better?"

"Not in anything that has _me_ risking _my_ life. I didn't know you were alive. I saw no reason to attempt a return to the Dark Lord. It was better when I thought that you, too, were dead. I was at least living peacefully."

"Would you have returned to the Dark Lord if you had thought that I was alive?"

"No," said Regulus, swirling his drink in his glass. "Somehow, I don't want to go back."

"If they find out you are alive, you know you are as good as dead, don't you?"

"Unless _you_ tell them."

"True."

There was silence for a while. "How did you break through my charm?"

"Easy. I knew that you hadn't died."

"How?"

"Bartemius would have seen to it that you had a proper funeral, you know. I still don't understand why he liked you. In any case, he was truly unaffected by your 'death'. It had to mean that he believed you were alive."

"You don't know for sure? Didn't he ever tell you?" asked Regulus, turning to face him.

Arthinus didn't reply.

"Why _not_?"

"I wish _I_ knew why not."

Regulus flinched at the vehemence in Arthinus' voice. However, he went on, "He might not have trusted you at that point."

Arthinus sat up in a swift motion and glared at Regulus. "Oh, indeed! And _whatever_ makes you think so?"

"It was just a feeling," Regulus downed the drink in a single gulp.

"You're stupid!" hissed Arthinus angrily. "There is no reason why he shouldn't have trusted me! You are mad!"

Regulus, deciding that he didn't want to be on the receiving end of one of Arthinus' strange dark curses, wisely kept his mouth shut.

Arthinus stared at him angrily for a while, and then settled back on the couch.

Could there possibly be any truth in Regulus' comments? There had been something different about Bartemius during his last months here, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He had overlooked the instinct then, for he had trusted Bartemius then more than anything else in this world.

Then there had been the night when Bartemius had told him that Aurors were after him – Moody, in particular. Not that Arthinus was scared of Moody, but he didn't want to take risks. He had followed Bartemius' advice and had gone out of the country. Only when he was safely hidden in a corner of Nigeria, had he come to know through different sources that it was not _him_ Moody was searching, it was Bartemius.

And he had been caught along with Regulus' cousin, her husband and his brother. They had not been spared. _Life_ _time_ _in_ _Azkaban_…

Arthinus knew it was hopeless to try and rescue him. Azkaban was something he really dreaded. He hated Dementors with his heart and soul. So instead, he had started tracking down the rumours about Dark Lord's whereabouts.

When he found that he was back in England, he had tried going back but old… memories had overpowered him… a three-year period of his life he had forgotten all about, except in his darkest nightmares.

When his Dark Mark had burnt once again, he had not returned. He knew that he was, like Regulus, believed to be dead. What difference would it make?

To him, it did, as soon as he knew that Regulus was alive. Though he had done a good job at hiding his handwriting, Arthinus was a genius at that sort of thing. If his half-brother was the best Potions Master in whole Europe, he was the best Charms Master in Europe.

And then Dark Lord had convinced Dementors to join Dark Side. Well, that almost decided it – he was _not_ going back. He was damned terrified of Dementors – a fear bordering on phobia.

_No_, he decided, he was _not_ going back to the Dark Lord.

He didn't quite know what he would do right now. Maybe go to see the attack tomorrow? Hmmm… come to think of it, there were a few curses he would love to try on Lucius.

He heard Regulus break his glass and stagger to his bed.

Well, at least he had _some_ idea about what he was going to do.

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

**VI**

Harry sat down on the window-sill looking out at the night scene. If he wasn't so worried about tomorrow, he would have said that it was romantic. As it was, he wasn't thinking about anything even remotely like it.

He had never been happy when he had lived with the Dursleys. He had hated Dudley with a great intensity and had often wished to be taken away from there. And now that his wish had been fulfilled, he wasn't quite sure if he liked it. It was true that his life was much, much better than before. Plus, he had gained a few things in life. But he had lost yet more.

One of such losses was Sirius. He still felt, and especially at nights, quite deeply the void that had been created in his life since Sirius' death. It was somewhat eerie how every other thing seemed to remind him of Sirius.

He had learnt from Remus that Sirius had changed the "Black Will" just a week before his death. He had made Harry his heir. His decision had been quite impulsive. Harry wondered if Sirius had had any forewarnings about his fate. It was rather "Trelawney-sounding", but it was Trelawney who had shown him his horrible fate. _Why_ _him_?

Again and again he had asked the question – _why_ _him_? What was so special about _him_? Why had _he_ to be the boy in the Prophecy? Why not Ron or Neville or Dean or Seamus? Heck, why couldn't it be Draco Malfoy? He won't have minded that even. But why _him_? There had been nothing exceptional about his parents, had there?

Well, nothing at least which he knew of. He was quite sure Mrs. Weasley loved Ron as much as his mother had loved him.

And yet, it was _him_, Harry Potter, who had been chosen, even before his birth, to bear such a great burden as was carried very rarely even by much older shoulders.

There had to be a reason. Yes, there _had_ to be a reason.

_Magic_… it was indeed a very deep mystery.

He turned slightly and looked at Ron – his first true friend. His best friend…

And now such was his position that he had to eye even him with suspicion.

He hated this – and yet he realized the bitter truth, much must be sacrificed during the times of war.

_Sirius_! _How_ _I_ _wish_ _you_ _were_ _here_ _to_ _help_ _me_! _I_ _need_ _you_, _Sirius_, _I_ _need_ _you_ _now_! _Please_, _please_ _come_ _back_. _You were always there for me, weren't you? So why not now? Please, come back, Sirius! Please come back…_

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

**VII**

Wrapped up in his strange thoughts, Severus did not know when he had fallen asleep. It was a troubled sleep, filled with nightmares he did not remember. However, something had so greatly troubled him that he woke up with a start.

His bedroom was still immersed in darkness, so he knew that he had not slept for long. He touched his forehead. It was clammy with sweat.

Still breathing hard, Severus reached for his wand by his bedside and flicked it to light the candle.

Considering nothing was amiss in his room, it had to be his nightmare which had woken him up. However, he couldn't remember even the slightest detail about it. Although the feeling or whatever it was that had woken him up was pretty strong.

He was still pretty disconcerted.

A walk around the castle and points off any little dunderhead he came across was what he required. First Granger, then this. He had a nagging suspicion that he would go mad much before Dumbledore would cross the line.

-o-o-o-o-o-

He was feeling slightly better – but only slightly. There was this _so_ _irritating_ curiosity to find out what had woken him up. But he was as far from finding the answer as ever.

He had spent some time outside and the chill air had somewhat cleared his head. But now he was shivering. Better go in before he died of the chill.

To his disappointment, there had been no students up and about in the night. It was as if all were aware of the danger that hung above them and wanted to be deep in the sanctuary of their dormitories – safe and blissfully unaware in their sleep.

A wandering thought unsettled his newly-gained calmness – _what if Voldemort attacked Hogwarts when everyone was asleep – like now?_

It was a very disturbing thought and since he knew that he needed his wits about him, Severus pushed it down for contemplation later.

As he turned down the corridor leading down the dungeons, he saw a student out of bed and standing near the last window there. Seeing that the Slytherin Common-Room was so near, he sighed. He really didn't want to take points off his house, but if it was a Death-Eater whom he knew to be such, he would.

-o-o-o-o-o-

_No such luck…_

"Draco?"

"Professor Snape!" the boy was startled.

"What are you doing out of bed at this time of night?"

"I – I… I couldn't sleep. It… all… is worrying me."

_Yes_, _he_ _might_ _confront_ _his_ _father_ _tomorrow_. "Come down with me."

Draco followed him wordlessly. Sometimes it made him so unsure and yet at other times he liked it that the boy looked upon him with so much faith.

Taking out the bluish-green vial of potion from his personal stock, he handed it to him.

"Here."

The boy drank it without question. As he finished the last drop, the lines of tension marring his smooth, perfect brow, straightened.

"The Peace Potion," he said.

"A relatively light one. But don't depend on it always. It is addictive."

Draco nodded. "Thank-you, sir."

Severus inclined his head and then said softly, in an almost fatherly manner, "Goodnight, Draco."

"Goodnight, Professor."

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

**VIII**

As the first rays of the sun fell on her face, Hermione sighed and opened her eyes. As a rule, she was a heavy sleeper. But her sleep last night had been mixed with short periods of waking up and nightmares, and all in all, it hadn't been a very satisfying sleep. Therefore, she decided to get a good soak in the bath before she prepared for today.

It was long before curfew still, but she doubted anyone would be awake. And she was right, too. Even Filch seemed to be asleep.

She took off her clothes and stepped into the hot water. It felt so pleasant, so natural. Another anchor in this ever-changing world… how she was growing to love the normal, most ordinary activities of her life!

She mentally went over the list of hexes that would prove useful in the run-in with the Death-Eaters. She had learnt some really dreadful ones this summer and meant to put them to use. Some had been taught to her by Lupin in his spare time.

_Lupin_… he had seemed so different this summer. She put it down to Sirius' death. It had affected them all. But Remus Lupin had seemed so utterly devastated.

_Oh_ _no_! He didn't _normally_ show it. No, he was the same old trustworthy Lupin to all even now. But she could see that he had lost the brightness of his eye and his reassuring smiles were more forced than anything else.

However, because he cared so much for Harry, he did not show his grief. He had built a wall around him and but was so hollow from the inside.

Hermione was worried about him. She and Ginny had discussed him one night. At first, it surprised her that Ginny could get past his 'façade' of cheerfulness. But even though Ginny was youngest with six brothers and usually the most pampered and over-protected, she was quite mature. Now that she had gotten over her crush on Harry, she seemed so different! Hermione felt towards her as if she was a sister she had never had. It was a comforting thought. She wondered at those who didn't like their sisters. Being an only child, Hermione had always sought for more than just 'best friends' in Harry and Ron. They were like her brothers. And now, she was glad to have a sister.

Though, to come back to her original train of thought, she was also scared for Lupin. One never knew what people could do in desperation.

As she walked back to her dormitory, she prayed fervently that he be able to cope with Sirius' death.

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

**IX**

**In the depths of the Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic, London…**

A lone figure walked down the dark corridors in the early hours of the morning. It was heavily robed and hooded and it seemed impossible even to make out if it was male or female.

However, since the person had put on neither the Concealment Charm nor the Invisibility Charm, it could be surmised that whoever it was, he/she well knew that there were anti-Concealment and anti-Invisibility wards ever since the attack here almost a year ago.

And this also pointed to the fact that the person had no black intentions to proclaim.

The person finally reached the place where the confrontation between the members of the Order of the Phoenix and the Death-Eaters had taken place a year back. It was the place where one end of the room had the fateful Veil.

But soon, the person found that he was in the company of another. However, the newcomer was not hooded. And it could be clearly seen that it was a man – blonde and about forty years of age.

"You're back, then? Does it mean that you are ready to risk all for _his_ sake alone?" asked the blonde man.

The nod which the hooded person gave was almost imperceptible.

"Well, good then. I will restart on it. But the formalities will take time."

Again just the nod.

"You really must love him to do this for him. Anyway, come back in a month or so. Just send me an owl two days before you do, though. To avoid all… _complications_, you understand?"

A nod of comprehension.

"Okay, let's go then. I am not supposed to be here until noon today."

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

**X**

The sun was up and shining brightly, though the weather was chilly. Hermione went down for breakfast with Harry and Ron. Harry put his arm around her reassuringly. Though they had exchanged no words, he could read her eyes.

"Who are you searching for, Ron?" asked Hermione, noticing that Ron was looking up and around every few minutes and was really not paying any attention to his meal.

"Ummm… no one really," he muttered, gobbling down his food and staring intently at his plate.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She turned questioningly to Harry.

He shrugged.

Hermione was glad that she was able to keep her appetite and her food inside her stomach even though she felt so nervous.

Finally, it was time to go out.

As they neared the Entrance Hall, Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder.

It was Professor Snape.

"It will do well if you keep your cool, Miss Granger. Be careful – and refrain from reckless display of Gryffindor foolhardiness." And seeing that Potter was staring incredulously at him and then at Hermione, he added, "You, too, Potter." _Both_ _were_ _equal_ _in_ _his_ _eyes_, _weren't_ _they_?

_Who_ _was_ _he_ _trying_ _to_ _convince_? Inwardly, he rolled his eyes at himself.

She nodded. He was right. It won't do to be all flustered up in front of a myriad of Death-Eaters.

Taking a deep breath, she linked her arm with Harry's and went to face whatever was outside, waiting for them.

Professor Snape watched them with emotionless eyes. He fingered the Calming Potion in his robe-pocket.

_No, it would only serve to make the girl weak in the long run. She needed to do his on her own._


	4. Chapter 3

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

**CHAPTER 3**

**OF REVENGE AND POLITICS **

-o-o-o-o-o-

**I**

Arthinus Snape had donned Glamour Charms and was walking down the main road of Hogsmeade as a harmless old wizard. _Harmless_ _indeed_!

He could almost sense that there was something wrong around here. His Animagus form was a hound (Petit Basset Griffon Vendeen, he believed) and since he had lately travelled around as a hound for quite a long time, his senses were sharp. He boasted that he could smell people's emotions. Nobody had ever believed it, but it was true. Each wizard had something peculiar about his/her Animagus form which distinguished it from the normal animals of its species. Mostly, these signs were physical but in some rare cases, they were represented in the modifications of his/her ability.

That was the main reason why Arthinus had not registered his name in the Animagi Department of the Ministry of Magic. He had believed that he could put his special abilities to better use if they remained secret.

It was past noon already, but there had been no attack. He was pretty tired of moving about aimlessly and decided to go in The Three Broomsticks for a drink.

As he passed the local Apothecary, he felt a familiar presence.

_Apothecary_… _well_, _well_, _well_, _brother_ _Severus_ _is_ _here_, _too_. _Hmmm_… _better_ _be_ _near_ _him_.

He had always observed that Severus had a way of getting into trouble quite easily. He could do with some action right now, even if he wasn't sure of where his loyalties lay.

Severus left the Apothecary too soon and headed towards The Three Broomsticks.

_Well_, thought Arthinus, _I_ _suppose_ _that_ _he_ _would_ _rather_ _be_ _help_ _to_ _the_ _kiddies_. _I_ _am_ _fine_ _with_ _that_. _Don't_ _want_ _to_ _involve_ _children_ _in_ _this_. _I_ _would_ _have_ _gone_ _so_ _far_ _as_ _to_ _include_ _women_, _but_ _my_ _impression_ _of_ _them_ _has_ _changed_. _Narcissa_ _was_ _a_ _disgusting_ _vixen_. _Lily, no better. And a Mudblood to boot!_

Arthinus was a firm believer of old Pureblood ethics.

But Severus did not go inside the pub. For a moment, Arthinus stiffened. _Had he sensed that he was being followed?_

It seemed not. He looked through the glass window and was observing someone there.

Arthinus wondered who it was. A… _she_, maybe? He grinned slyly to himself. Though Severus wasn't the archaic handsome type, even Arthinus couldn't deny that the dark, brooding, sarcastic type was attractive – well, at least he was if you had "peculiar" tastes in such matters.

But his speculations turned out to be utterly useless when Harry Potter, along with two of his friends exited the pub and Severus' eyes followed him down the street.

_Oh_, _well_! _So_ _he_ _was_ _just_ _babysitting_ _Potter_!

_Severus_ _had_ _always_ _been_ _a_ _boring_ _man_, _anyway_, thought Arthinus making a face and going in for a drink himself. _Except that one case of Tiara, of course. Though I don't know how sincere that was._

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

**II**

_Okay_, _this_ _is_ _it_; _we_ _are_ _going_ _to_ _die_, thought Hermione desperately as she saw Draco nod to Harry and inch closer towards them. She glanced around to see if Ron was nearby. Much to her dismay, he wasn't.

_Oh_ _Ron_!

"Harry, duck!"

Hermione felt an arm grab her and gasped as she felt bright blue light whiz past her head. But Harry had pulled her down with him.

They were up on their feet moments later, wands out.

There was screaming and shouting going on around her, but she gathered her will-power and concentration, and started aiming hexes at the black-robed and hooded figures apparating all around the place.

There were loud popping noises behind her.

Startled, she turned to see about twenty Death-Eaters apparate just behind her and Harry.

_We are dead. _

Even as she thought it, she felt an arm slip around her waist. _Harry… _

The Death-Eaters lifted their wands…

…and the next thing she knew she was standing in Forbidden Forest.

_Wait… what was going on?_

"All right, kids?"

She tried to ignore the nauseating feeling welling up inside her as she glanced at the old wizard standing in front of her and Harry. Harry, though, seemed all right except that he was horribly shocked.

"W-Who are you?" Harry asked.

"Tell you in a moment. Seems Miss… well, the young lady here is really not easy with apparating.

"You apparated us here?" Hermione managed to gasp out in spite of the giddy feeling.

Harry put an arm around her, helping her to stand.

"Yes. Now, if you kids are all right, then go back to the castle…"

Harry bristled. "We aren't kids. We aren't hiding in the castle. Thank-you for saving us, but we need to go out there and fight!"

Hermione's head was spinning but she was indignant at the suggestion, too.

The man looked intently at them. "Potter, this really isn't the time to do this, you know. Presently, concentrate on saving yourself. Your services will be asked for, Potter, and then you will have to give a lot. But this is not the time. That time is yet to come."

"Who are you?" asked Hermione sharply.

But before the man could say a word, there were more apparitions. Casting a fearful look around him, the man disapparated.

-o-o-o-o-o-

His arm still around Hermione, Harry pulled out his wand.

"No need for that, Harry," said a very pale-looking Remus emerging from behind the trees. He was supporting a badly-injured Tonks along with Draco.

"Potter, what's that wound on your arm?" asked Draco.

For the first time, Harry found out that there was a bruise – or at least he thought it was that – forming on his arm where there had been dull pain. He had put it off as a hex.

Remus clutched his arm and looked closely at it. "Hospital Wing, Harry. Quick! You too, Hermione. Who brought you here, anyway?"

Harry exchanged a perplexed glance with Hermione. "We don't know."

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

**III**

Arthinus apparated back to Hogsmeade. Many Death-Eaters had disapparated, and a few lay immobile on the ground. He tried to recognize the few which were still putting up an excellent fight, when a grey streak of light whizzed past his ear. Swearing under his breath, he ducked and took shelter behind a multitude of barrels. There were about five pairs fighting in this area. No civilians – except the three which lay dead.

An Auror had just been defeated and the Death-Eater was about to finish his job when all of a sudden he fell dead. Startled, he looked around.

Standing less than twenty yards away was Severus Snape.

_Severus_ _attacked_ _a_ _man_ _from_ _behind_? _No_ _matter_ _he_ _was_ _a_ _Death-Eater, but I know him very well_. _He won't ever do that!_

The more he observed Severus, the more he scared him. There was a maniacal glow in his otherwise cold eyes. His stance was that of a ruthless man. Was this his calm, composed brother?

_The_ _man_ _couldn't_ _be_ _more_ _different_!

As Arthinus watched, rooted to the spot in fear of this new man he had thought he knew well, a Death-Eater advanced towards him. A fierce duel followed. The sense of family would have made Arthinus side with his brother, but presently, he couldn't even think anything clearly. It was one of the most deadly duels he had seen.

Both the men poured in all their hatred in the dark curses they threw at each other. But their defence was strong as well.

Arthinus could sense that the Death-Eater was growing scared of Severus. It wasn't just his magic which told him, the man's voice was too shrill – showing his fear.

_Will he kill Severus?_

It seemed not. Severus killed him before his opponent could do same to him.

_Severus killed two men – and not even in proper self-defence! Has he changed? What has changed?_

Many Aurors were apparating there plus some Ministry officials. Arthinus felt that it was time he went back.

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

**IV**

"Stay here, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger. If someone with minor injury comes down here – they will be many – attend to them. If there is something serious, Miss Granger, please come and call me. Tonks needs whole of my attention right now."

Hermione looked at Draco, who seemed totally gobsmacked. She rolled her eyes. Really, he didn't think that he would get to act Prince Almighty when so many people needed help?

"What are you waiting for?" she shot at him and then went over to the cupboard where Madam Pomfrey kept her medical supplies.

"You don't think I will… well, I don't do all this _helping_ stuff and things. Wake up, Potter, if you want, but I will certainly _not_…"

He did not finish his sentence as Hermione came up to him and with hands on her hips, said in her bossy voice, "You _will_ help, Malfoy, and you _will_ do it the best you can. If not, then be prepared to be hexed into little invisible pieces! You know that I am skilled in some very good ones. Won't like a demonstration for starters, _will_ you?"

Not in eternity would Draco Malfoy admit that Hermione scared him somewhat. He was involuntarily reminded of the slap that she had humiliated him with three years ago.

He watched her bending down to clean the wounds of a little third-year girl sobbing quietly on the bed next to Harry's. She tried to soothe the girl as she tended to her injuries.

"What are you standing there like a loafer for?" she hissed at him as she went to get some salves.

Not wanting to test Hermione's skill in hexes, he moved over to a Slytherin fourth year, Eleanor Zola.

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was well into the night when Potter woke up. He had stirred and moaned many times during his sleep. Draco had once wanted to go over and listen to what his murmurings were about. Did he really dream of his parents? Or were his nightmares all about the Dark lord?

However, showing even the least sign of caring was not acceptable in a place so full of students.

Not that he _cared_, mind you…

"Malfoy."

"What, Granger?" he snapped without turning.

"I would rather not be mistaken for a girl, Malfoy."

He stiffened, then turned around with a smirk, "_Potter_." His eyes, though, no longer had the dead tired look in them. They were quite strangely lit up – considering they were rather dull grey eyes.

Potter squinted up at him. "What time is it? And why is your hair hanging around your face?"

"Harry! You're awake!"

Draco backed away as Granger and Weasley hurried up to Potter. He felt a pang of jealousy shoot through him.

Potter's eyes met his momentarily as the Granger girl hugged him.

Without a word, he left the Hospital Wing and hurried down towards the kitchens. What did _he_ care about Potter? No, he cared for no one but himself and presently, he was dying from hunger.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"So why did Madam Pomfrey tell me to sleep? I wasn't badly hurt or anything," said Harry.

"I don't know. Nobody is explaining _anything_ you know. It is all over, but I don't know anything. I have been helping in here all along."

"How are you feeling now, mate?" asked Ron.

"Fine. Do you know anything about how it all ended, Ron?"

"Well… yeah, just the rumours and gossips you know…"

"Tell us, Ron!" persisted Hermione. She hated been cut off from everything like this. But she knew what she was supposed to do.

"Well, some people are saying that Snape murdered quite a lot of people and has been taken to Azkaban…"

"_WHAT_?" cried out Hermione, getting up.

"Told you I mainly gathered things from rumours. But I don't think I have seen him anywhere in the castle since I am back here."

"He might be just out there… helping," said Hermione, clearly very agitated.

"I don't see why you are bothering so much about it," said Harry coldly, glaring at Hermione.

Hermione returned his glare. "I think you are taking this way too lightly, Harry! I don't understand why you keep blaming Professor Snape for everything! He isn't a bad man. He does not deserve this. And he's been taken to Azkaban! This is all so unfair!"

"He murdered people, Hermione," said Harry.

"Those might be rumours!"

"Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, I am afraid I will have to put an end to your conversation right here. You are disturbing everyone around," said Madam Pomfrey, fussing over Harry.

"Thank you for your help. Now you must get some food and rest. Go up to your Common-Room. I will send Dobby there with some food. _No_, Mr. Potter, you'll remain here for tonight."

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

She was truly very worried about him. Had he _really_ murdered? She desperately hoped _not_… She couldn't bear the thought of him turning out to be the traitor.

She had told Ron that she wanted to go around the castle once more to see if any help was required.

He nodded and went to his dormitory. Ron, who always believed and trusted her, simple, funny, annoying and adorable Ron… for a moment she hated Snape for upsetting their perfect friendship.

But no, she was being unreasonable, she felt as she stopped in front of Professor McGonagall's office. Ought she to go in? Would it not seem more like intruding than enquiring? What if Ron had heard just _rumours_? Mindless, senseless gossip…

She sighed and turned away without knocking. She did not want to disturb her Professor. For all she knew, McGonagall might even not be there. No, this was certainly not the time for fulfilling her overwhelming curiosity.

While on the other hand…

… _it won't hurt, would it?_

She moved towards the dungeons.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Snape set up strong wards around his office every night – Harry had told her once in their fourth-year. Now, too, she could detect those wards. Did it mean that Professor Snape was there? Who else would come and put up the wards?

_Any_ _other_ _teacher_… her logical self answered.

_Well, then, should I try to break through these wards?_

_Should I?_

Oh dear, this was such a dilemma!

_What if he is there? What if he thinks you are a dangerous intruder and kills you?_

_He won't kill so ruthlessly, would he?_

_If the rumours are true…_

_Which they certainly aren't!_

_Then…_

"Miss Granger?"

_Curiosity kills the cat. And lion, the mascot of Gryffindor is a type of cat, right?_

"Professor Cain."

"What are you doing here, Miss Granger? It is after curfew."

_Should I ask? Should I? Should I?_

_Not if you don't want to face awkward questions and probably get into trouble for being a nosy parker. _

"Well, I… I was wondering about Professor Snape… he didn't come back… did he? I mean… there were… well, rumours about Azkaban and all… and… _well_?"

_Harry and Ron must be rubbing off on me. This is so embarrassing! Whatever was I thinking? I can hear him all right – "I don't see what business it is of yours, Miss Granger!" And by Merlin! I was stuttering!_

However, Professor Cain's response wasn't exactly that.

"I suggest you go back to your dormitory, Miss Granger. Good-night."

His voice was quiet – guarded, but commanding.

Hermione nodded and briskly walked back to her dorm, all the while, only one thought in her mind, "_Oh no! Snape is in Azkaban!"_

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

**V**

"Why would they take him to Azkaban if he killed Death-Eaters?" asked Regulus.

"I don't know," said Arthinus, slipping out of his cloak. "Maybe because Fudge had recently said that he wanted them alive – for questioning and things. I think killing an "evidence" or "source of information" merits Azkaban now."

"Or maybe Fudge just wants people in Dumbledore's confidence away from him."

"You mean he _still_ thinks that Dumbledore might seize his position from him?"

"That was what I last heard."

"I haven't seen a stupider man."

"So he finally killed Rudolphus and Algernon?"

Arthinus flinched slightly as he remembered his fear when he had seen raw anger in Severus' eyes. However, he composed himself quickly enough.

"You make it sound as if he had been planning murder all along."

"Hadn't he?"

"It was very impulsive – I could see it in his eyes."

"So have you decided where your loyalties lie?"

_A fleeting remembrance of an angry boy and a brown-haired girl…_

"No," he said in all honesty.

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was a terrible night for him. The death of his two sort-of-once-colleagues came back to him in bizarre nightmares.

Finally, he got up and began pacing the room.

If he was to show himself to Severus, what would Severus think? It was true that he had known nothing about Rudolphus' and Algernon's plan to kill the Cain family, but he did have a hunch. Did Severus know he had this instinctive feeling?

_Maybe_… perhaps that was why he had hated Arthinus more than before after Tiara's death.

_Would_ _he_ _kill_ _him_ _now_? _Murder was not something below him – that he had seen with his own eyes today._

_For_ _half_-_brothers_, thought Arthinus wryly, _we_ _are_ _pretty_ "_close_".

There was another thing on his mind, though. _Serpentia_. _His_ _home_. _Their_ _home_.

Ought he to go back to that place?

He glanced at the closed door of Regulus' bedroom.

Regulus wasn't to be trusted right now. No one was to be.

But… _Serpentia_?

There was still the sort of void in his mind where there were supposed to be three years' after Tiara's death and the start of his travels.

-o-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was eerily quiet when Regulus woke up next morning. Arthinus was a fidgety sort of person. Regulus would wake up to his poking and prodding things around the room.

_Maybe he has finally decided to leave me in peace!_

His hopes were fulfilled as he stepped into the small living-room-cum-kitchen and saw the note pinned to the wall,

"I won't be back."

-o-o-o-o-o-

**VI**

_It_ _is_ _some_ _twisted_ _Ministry_ _politics_, _no_ _doubt_, thought Severus wryly as he lay down on the mattress in a corner of the room.

They would blame him in some completely absurd manner, but he trusted Dumbledore to get him out of here.

He was surprisingly clear-headed for a man who had just murdered and had been taken to Azkaban.

What was to be expected anyway? Won't he be clear-headed? He was the most clear-headed he had been in a long, long time.

And all because he had finally fulfilled his promise.

He had killed the murderers of Tiara Cain and now, there wasn't any obligation on him. Well, none that he owned to anyone but Dumbledore. _But_ _that_ _one_, he mused, _would_ _never_ _be_ _fulfilled_. How could you wash your hands off a man that gave you a reason to live – that let you live in the first place?

Sighing, he closed his eyes. Even though he was in a dirty, murky place, he had never felt more satisfied. He wondered why he hadn't killed those bastards before now.

-o-o-o-o-o-

And for the first time in so many years he dreamt a peaceful dream. He was at Hogwarts, teaching, researching, reading and living a peaceful life. Though he didn't know why the face of a certain brown-haired girl seemed to pop up from nowhere at most unexpected part of his dream. But somehow, it made the dream complete – it made him complete.

_It_ _is_ _an_ _extremely_ _bizarre_ _thought_, Severus concluded as he stared up into the darkness. The girl would faint with terror if she even realized that her Potions Master dreamt of her.

_Hermione_ Granger… her name sounded queer on his lips, didn't it? He was far more used to "Miss Granger". It was very comfortable to address her as "_Miss_ _Granger_".

Now, after a good night's sleep and some serious, dispassionate thought about the previous day, he felt somewhat panicked. What if Fudge didn't free him after all?

That was stupid. There was no clear charge against him. Anybody there would swear that he had attacked in self-defence and killing a Death-Eater wasn't exactly a crime – and that went for two Death-Eaters as well.

He remembered Miss Granger as she was with him a day ago. He remembered his reactions to her proximity.

Late that night, or more like early the morning after, he had remembered Tiara. Was he betraying her in some manner? She was _dead_; he had learnt to live with the fact. He had led a life of complete celibacy until now. Was being pervert over a young lady some sort of dishonour to her memory?

He didn't know. He couldn't understand. He admitted (to none but himself) that he was a complete imbecile when it came to feelings and such. He didn't know what was right, what was wrong. Not that he would have particularly minded that at times. However, when it came to Tiara, he somehow felt compelled to do right by her. He hadn't succeeded to that in her life. At least he could try after her death.

_And_ _Miss_ _Granger_ _was_ _an_ _annoying_ _little_ _chit_.

He was shaken out of his thoughts as he heard footsteps coming towards his cell.

Panic returned with renewed force.

_At_ _least_, he tried to console himself, _there_ _would_ _be_ _no_ _Dementors_ _around_.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**VII**

"Potter."

"Malfoy."

It was so… _drab_, thought Draco wryly as he glared coldly at the bespectacled black-haired boy. _Potter_… _Malfoy_… Hadn't they come down to first names somewhere a few days ago? Or was it just yesterday? The day before? He had lost all sense of time. You don't feel particularly well if your mentor is in Azkaban.

_Potter_… _Harry_… _whatever_! Well, the boy was fidgeting in a most annoying manner. It irked him.

"Out of my way, Potter! I have Quidditch practice to go to!"

Potter's eyes widened. "_Quidditch_ _practice_?" he asked incredulously. "How can you think of _Quidditch_ _practice_?"

"Tell me to think of something else, Potter. Mind you, it shouldn't include these – Professor Snape is in Azkaban, my father almost killed me yesterday, I don't know what he'll do to my mother and I don't know what I'll do this summer. Anything else to think of, Potter?"

"Malfoy… Draco…"

_Draco_…

"Well, I guess Quidditch is sort of… releasing…"

Draco raised an inquisitive brow.

"You can leave all burdens and troubles back on ground and fly," explained Potter.

"You're odd, Potter, did anyone tell you that?"

"_You_ did. Only you used some particularly nasty words and actions instead of saying '_odd'_."

"Are you _whining_, Potter?"

"No," he answered shortly, "I'll get out of your way then."

Malfoy scowled. Potter had no right to get snappy with _him_. It wasn't _his_ friends who rudely interrupted anything near to a conversation he was trying to have with him. Well, from one point of view, he had no friends at all. He firmly believed that blokes who couldn't tell up from down were not classified as human-beings and Draco had no affinity for animals.

"You sure you don't want to go flying, Potter, and leave your troubles back on the earth?"

Without a word but a dirty glare, Potter pushed past him and went towards the Hospital Wing.

Malfoy turned and looked after him until he turned round the corner. A small sigh escaped his lips as he pulled out the miniature racer broom from his pocket and enlarged it.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**VIII**

Hermione thought she was nothing short of going mad. She had tried her level best to gather something sensible from the rumours about Professor Snape, but they got more and more peculiar – not to mention impossible – with each passing day. She was sure that Professor Snape had not tortured a student. She rebuked Colin Creevey when he said that Snape had tried to kill Professor Dumbledore. She had to restrain herself from hexing Luna Lovegood who blandly suggested that Snape was a Death-Eater who had all along been spying on Dumbledore and the Ministry. Surprisingly, Ron had come to her rescue by pointing out that Snape had no way of spying on the Ministry to which Luna launched into a detailed description of magical equivalent of double personality. Ron vowed never to go anywhere near Luna Lovegood ever again.

Snape had become the favourite subject of idle discussion. People had precious little knowledge about the actual happenings on the Valentine's Day. So they exaggerated on the known facts, creating their own versions of the incident. Snape, being the most mysterious of all and the only person who had gotten for himself a full page about himself, except of course, Harry Potter, was quickly believed to be the central figure of the whole tale. Not to mention the fact that it had been the first time anybody had actually seen him out of Hogwarts grounds.

Hermione was irritated by it all. These people were so _foolish_! They could sit snugly near the fires and distort facts and reputations. Didn't they understand how deeply someone could be affected by their careless words? So for the first few days of the following week, Hermione Granger was one person to be avoided at all costs. She regularly snapped at everybody and lectured them, Harry and Ron being the only exceptions. Harry, who did not want to touch the subject for he was unsure about his feelings towards the Potions Master; Ron could not care less about what happened to Snape. He was glad as long as Professor Cain taught them Potions.

"At least," confided Ron to Harry, "I can now concentrate on brewing my potion than on the greasy git breathing down my neck!"

There had been many speculations about what the outcome of the trial of Severus Snape would be. However, the climax was rather dull – a bail. Severus Snape had been granted a _bail_.

Hermione was flabbergasted as well as outraged. She had been pursuing some Wizard Law books and based on her belief that Snape had murdered purely due to self-defence, she had thought that there would be no case against Severus Snape and he would be free. But things were not to be so, it seemed. She was sure that it was Fudge's doing. Ever since Madam Bones' death in a Death-Eater attack, the Wizengamot had been quite dominated by the Minister for Magic. Even though Dumbledore had been accepted as a Wizengamot, he did not have many supporters in the Ministry. Hermione had a nagging suspicion that Snape had been granted bail because of Dumbledore's efforts.

_However, _she thought, _Snape will now be back to teach Potions. Professor Cain is good, but I would rather that he set us more homework! After all, next year will be our N.E.W.T. year._

Needless to say, not many agreed with her reasoning.

Anyway, Hermione's hopes were dashed when a whole month passed and there was no sign of Snape anywhere near Hogwarts.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**IX**

**Very early morning. Department of Mysteries.**

"You are early, you know," said the blonde man.

"So?"

"Well, I have got over the red tape. Took a bit of time what with the attack at Hogsmeade and all…"

"Have you started on it?"

"I will tomorrow. We do not want any complications now, do we?"

"Is that all?"

"This is very dangerous work, you understand?"

"Yes."

"One of us might get killed."

"I know."

"Or worse – we might be unsuccessful."

"I am used to injustices and difficulties."

"Do I get to know who you are?"

"No."

"If you are a Death-Eater…"

The man was quiet.

His companion from the Ministry fidgeted clearly showing his unease.

"Well, you are paying all expenses. I am not a rich man."

"Yes."

"Come tomorrow. I need your presence in the first ritual."

"Same time?"

"Yes, that will be fine."

"Tomorrow, then."

And with that the man pulled his hood further down and exited the room. The blonde shook his head and turned back to his work. _Some_ _people_ _really_ _knew_ _what_ _extremity_ _meant_!

-o-o-o-o-o-

Once outside the Ministry, the man disapparated to the Leaky Cauldron. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place wasn't far from there.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**X**

_Serpentia_…

_Once_ _again_, thought Severus wryly and proceeded towards his ancestral home.

Serpentia was a building which clearly showed its age. It was made of stone in the fashion which prevailed more than 600 years ago. Snape was not a common name. Not everybody knew about them. And yet in the Middle Ages, they had been granted knighthood. All pointed to one fact – they had been important spies.

Severus attached no importance to the fact. He was a spy of his own accord. Not even due to circumstances, he always insisted. Dumbledore always tried to dissuade him from this occupation. Why he would do that, Snape had never understood. _He_ was profiting by it, and if anyone was suffering real loss, it was Severus and nobody else.

Another prominent trait of Snapes' had been their secrecy. If you wanted a Secret-Keeper, it was once said among certain people, you ought to ally with a Snape.

Severus was _manipulative_ rather than secretive. He used the resources – namely, secrets – available to him to suit his purpose. He was _sly_, _crafty_ and _cunning_. He was rather proud of himself.

That did not necessarily make him evil though. Dumbledore was manipulative. Potter, Sr. had been sly. Black had been crafty and cunning. Even now, after his death, Severus wondered what made Black a Gryffindor. Was he truly braver than he was ambitious? Not that Severus thought so. In Severus' opinion, the old Sorting Hat was a joke. It had sorted Longbottom in Gryffindor rather than Hufflepuff, Pettigrew in the same rather than a Slytherin, Lovegood in Ravenclaw rather than a Hufflepuff (where, in his opinion, all dunderheads were supposed to be) and Miss Granger in Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw.

By the by, he was truly glad that the subject of Miss Granger no longer unsettled him.

It had been just… well, _hormones_, he supposed. He shuddered. He truly wished that a forty year old man like him might not be ruled by something so trivial.

Pushing the subject down, he went around the house, relearning the feelings that had passed him when he had last been here.

He settled for a guest room on the ground floor at present. He wasn't here to live permanently and it won't do to return to his own room. It somewhat scared him.

It was unexplainable. He cursed Fudge for the gross injustice meted out to him. He was more than willing to hex most of the Wizengamot into the next millennium. All because he was _not_ afraid of the consequences. What he was afraid of was memories. It had taken him an awfully long time to grow indifferent towards _her_ memories. And the last thing he wanted now was a repeat of the torture he had gone through after her death.

He threw himself in an overstuffed armchair, pulling out a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey. Inebriation was highly underrated.

-o-o-o-o-o-


	5. Chapter 4

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**CHAPTER 4**

**OF REGAL HOUSES, SERPENTS, DARK ROOMS AND FIRST KISSES**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**I**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

And it was the end of the year, but Snape did not come back.

Only Hermione and Draco among the student body were worried, though. Who else would want to have back the tormentor?

Though the End-of-the-Year Feast was a quiet affair, the most striking thing was that Gryffindor and Slytherin were equal on points and so, the decorations were half and half.

Hermione thought it rather symbolic. If they were to achieve victory, more than anything, Gryffindor and Slytherin required being together. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff couldn't be overlooked, but that was not the point. It was the enmities that had to be conquered.

Harry and Draco had grown distant and wouldn't even look at each other. She had her prejudices against the blonde, but she wondered what was going on between them. The war was at its height. It would not do to have them at each others throats.

She didn't try to reconcile them. The most prominent reason among many others was the fact that Malfoy would walk down the opposite way of the corridor if either she or Harry came in his sight. Harry was even more difficult. He was usually very cross because of the pain due to his scar and though he still had nightmares, the fact that Sirius was a part of them made him want to be lonesome as ever.

Nobody had been able to bring in more information about the suspected Weasley and Hermione found herself torn between sympathy and suspicion whenever she was with Ron.

All in all, it was a very dismal end of the year. Even her scores had dropped by five percent in average! But that didn't bother her as much as it would have. She had realized that there were more important things. She had started trusting her intelligence and did not need marks to prove it. It was a step towards maturity to show that she could widen her horizons and learn to accept failures and work for their remedial.

Dumbledore had sent for Harry and her just before they were to leave next day.

It was about the man who had saved them. He confessed he had no idea who it could be and told them to be on the lookout for him if they met him ever again.

He kept back Hermione for he had something to talk to her about personally.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione put down her quill and stretched her arms. She had been sitting at her work since morning and now it was evening. She glanced at the wall-clock. Six-thirty.

She got up to get some food.

It was the first of August and she had not heard a word from anybody from the magical world. She was feeling slightly irritated now. Was this how Harry had felt that summer after the fourth year? She truly sympathised with him now.

She wondered if she could get some pasta.

Dumbledore had warned her to accept no post. Her house was warded. Her parents had gone to her Uncle Leonov's house in Russia, where there was almost no effect of this war. Russian wizards were not on good terms with British magical brethren and did not concern themselves with their politics. She had been staying alone in her parent's house for a full month now. She had been patient all along, _waiting_… hopeful that someone would come to take her to Grimmauld Place.

But no, there had been no such luck. She was buried here with her books and the computer. It was getting boring. She had tried listening to music for some entertainment. But there were very few CDs there as her parents were no great music-lovers.

She glared at the box which provided her with whatever dish she wanted in order to prevent her from going out. Oh yes, the pasta was very nice, though she could not recognize what sort it was because of the gravy and flavouring. She didn't care much. But she would rather drink a glass of water _outside_ this house than eat delicacies _inside_ it.

Her stomach protested and with a sigh she sat down at the table. Oh well, she _was_ very hungry.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It was just ten in the morning. She could see Lisa and Mona Hawthorn playing outside and quite a few people were about. Surely, Death-Eaters won't attack her if she went out just for a _few_ minutes? A very, very _few_ minutes?

It wasn't as if she was thinking like Harry and Ron, but she was a human being who required fresh air. It was absurd to think that Death-Eaters would attack her just when she went out for five minutes.

So, pocketing her wand, she went out into the small garden.

It was _sheer_ _bliss_! This was _so_ wonderful. _Never_ again would Hermione undermine the importance of nature.

She stayed there for five minutes, however. It was almost noon when she went back inside.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Miss Granger, pleasure to meet you."

_Oh_ _Merlin_!

Her breath caught as she turned around to see the sneering face of Lucius Malfoy.

He wasted no time, contrary to his usual behaviour. As soon as he pulled out his wand, Hermione ducked behind the sofa, just to have it blasted the next second.

Her wand was out and soon they were wrapped in a fierce duel.

Lucius Malfoy was slightly unnerved at the skill of the young witch before him. Hermione, encouraged by this, cast every horrible hex she knew in his direction. Malfoy, however, had the upper hand. He was well-versed with the Dark Arts.

Her mind was working furiously, trying to block his spells. Three had got her already, but she was valiantly trying to block out the pain caused by them.

He wanted her alive, she had reasoned quickly. So he would not cast a dreadfully dangerous hex on her. He wanted information from her, probably. What should she do?

As Malfoy ducked to avoid a hex from her, she snatched up the bronze vase and threw it at him.

It was _highly_ unexpected. He was hit square in the face.

"_Stupefy_!" she yelled, panting.

"_Incendio_!" pointing towards the fire-place. "_Dumbledore's_ _office_!" as she threw in the Floo Powder kept there for emergency and soon she was gone.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**II**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Good evening, Miss Granger, I see you are feeling much better now."

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore. I think I am well enough to go home now."

Professor Dumbledore sat down on a chair near Hermione's bed. "Now that you mention it, Miss Granger, it is something related to your being discharged from St. Mungo's."

"Indeed, Professor?" Hermione wondered whatever it could be. And it turned out to be something very much unexpected...

"Healer Verne informs me that you are surely well enough to go home. But we have suspicions that it is mighty unsafe for you to do so."

"What happened to Lucius Malfoy?" she asked.

"He had escaped when we got there. Though we don't know how."

"Still I can't go back home?"

"I am sorry to do this, Miss Granger, but I want you to be with a guardian now."

Hermione was devastated. He didn't trust her anymore!

"So, Miss Granger, for the rest of the vacation you'll be staying in the Serpentia, Miss Granger. It is, Professor Snape's home. He has er... agreed to have you at his home for the rest of the summer."

Hermione stared at Dumbledore, flabbergasted. She was going to _live_ _with_ _Snape_?

"It has, I know, come as a... great surprise, but I expect you understand that it is for your safety."

Hermione racked her brains to come up with something to convince Dumbledore that it was _not_ a good idea.

"But, Professor, won't the Death Eaters know where Professor Snape, lives?"

"Good point, Miss Granger. No, they are completely unaware of the existence of any such place. It is as well protected as No. 12, Grimmauld Place. I should get going now, Miss Granger. Professor McGonagall will be here in two hours to take you to the Serpentia."

She very much wanted to ask why she couldn't be at the Grimmauld Place. But she had a sneaking suspicion that Harry wasn't there either. Something in Dumbledore's manner told her that too many questions would be very unwelcome. So she held her tongue for once.

Really, it wasn't as if she _hated_ Snape – no, her feelings were far from it. In fact, they had been as far from it as possible during past few months. It was just, well, much _unexpected_.

However, she just shrugged and continued with her reading. It was better than staying home all alone, although she doubted whether it would be much different with him who she would be staying with.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**III**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Severus was really very put out at the idea of having Granger, at Serpentia. But he understood that it was for her safety. He won't have minded it so much if that girl hadn't been Potter's friend and a damned Gryffindor.

However, he couldn't refuse the Headmaster, could he? Especially when Dumbledore had requested him so earnestly. Well, he'd have to bear it, he supposed. It won't have been so bad though, he thought, if the girl wasn't a perfect nosy one – he would hate anyone to be nosing around the Serpentia. Well, it would be for her safety as well, won't it? Knowing what creatures dwelled in the Serpentia... Anyway, there was no use getting mad about it now because the girl would be here today. He put down his quill and glanced through the letter he had written –

"_Arthinus, _

"_You might want to drop the idea of coming down to Serpentia tomorrow evening – or any other evening or day for the rest of the summer. I will be having some unexpected company and not quite the one of your taste. However, if you want, you can occupy the old house in that suburb where you are because I don't think I will ever return there again. _

"_Send me your answer through this owl. _

"_Yours truly, _

_Severus Snape."_

Well, he had not expected Arthinus to return to England this week. In fact, he hadn't expected Arthinus to return ever again. He didn't know why he had left in the first place. In a way, he had expected him to be dead. He had been absent for so long!

He was exasperated at him, though. Even if he was his half-brother, that didn't mean that he could drop in without prior notification. If Severus had known earlier that Arthinus was going to be here in summer, he would have had a reason to refuse Dumbledore. But now he couldn't back out on his word. With a sigh, he tied the letter to the leg of a tawny barn owl perched on the window sill. Then he went downstairs. Granger would be here in half an hour. His temper grew none the better for it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Good evening, Professor Snape. Well, here's Miss Granger, too. Professor Dumbledore..."

"Informed me of this stay – very much unexpected, of course," said Snape, coolly.

"Alright. Miss Granger, take care," said McGonagall very kindly. Hermione nodded. Professor McGonagall Disapparated, leaving behind her student – a young witch of near eighteen – with a man with a dark past, whose coldness and indifference could make one shiver even on a midsummer's afternoon...

"If you have no intention of coming in, Granger, I will be delighted to lock you out.' Hermione turned to Snape. His eyes were narrowed in angry dislike. She said nothing but went up the stairs and through the door which he held open for her. She winced as she heard him slam the door with an irritating 'BANG!'

"I hope you are not afraid of dark, Granger, and even if you are, well," he added with a nasty smirk, "I don't care." As fate would have it, Hermione was afraid of dark. It wasn't severe, but she would have avoided it all the same. The corridor, where her room was situated was murky and dark.

"Let me warn you, Granger – Do not feel that you have the liberty to move around in my house freely," said Snape as he unbolted the door to her room.

"Can there be no torches in those brackets on the walls, sir?" Hermione ventured to ask Snape as he magically conjured fire in the hearth.

Without looking at her, Snape said, "Who is the master of this house, Granger?"

"Well, it's you, sir," said Hermione.

"And I love darkness and I wish to live in it – that is my home! And I do not want suggestions from a silly know-it-all as to how I should equip my house. You get that, Granger?"

Hermione felt irritated and angry to an extent. "I am not a know-it-all!" _I am almost an adult witch for Merlin's sake!_ She wanted to shout at him.

Snape turned around and sneered maliciously at her. "If you are unaware that you are not a know-it-all, then let me inform you now that you are. It's very tiring, of course and shows how swollen a head you have. But I'd expect that of all Gryffindors – expect perhaps, of total losers like Neville Longbottom."

"Gryffindors are the best, and it's the Slytherins – and everyone related to them who needs deflating! And Neville is a very good wizard. He made it to your class in the sixth-year in spite of..." Hermione broke off.

_What has got into me? _she thought, _I can't shout at Snape. However evil he maybe, he's still my teacher. He can't take points off from Gryffindor now, it's true, but he will surely avenge himself at school._

"In spite of what, Miss Granger?" asked Snape, narrowing his eyes in hatred.

But Hermione didn't reply. She just returned his gaze defiantly.

Snape frowned at her. These young brats really had despicable manners. But he didn't really see Miss Granger as a 'young brat' anymore. Not now at any rate. Not when he had less than proper thoughts about her in sleepy or drunken haze.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Snape turned and went away. It really won't do to get into a staring contest with Miss Granger now. It really wasn't worth it. He had better work to do. Important work.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione was a bit startled by his sudden departure. Snape had gone without lashing out at her – such lashing as her defiant statement would have merited from him. She had studied under him for six years after all. If he could belittle her on a small and irrelevant matter like her buck teeth back in fourth year, then surely, he would not let 'insolence' go by without reprimanding her.

Well, it was her luck if he did not want to treat her like a child. She wasn't a child anyway. She would be seventeen this September; an adult according to the magical world.

She had finished putting her clothes and other things in the wardrobe (after getting rid of the cobwebs in it). _'If I am going to live here this summer, I might as well make this place inhabitable,' _she thought. _'If Snape's got a liking to live filthy, well, I am not changing just because 'he's the master of this house'. He can't order me around as if I am a slave! Because I am not, I am a guest.'_

After she had finished unpacking, she sat down on the bed. Professor McGonagall had packed her bag and since there was less time, she had just put in the necessities. It seemed, according to McGonagall standards, that books weren't a necessity. Well, it were according to 'Hermione standards' and she felt sorely tempted to Floo to her house and get her books. No doubt Dumbledore would be sending them to her in course of a few days. There were more pressing matters than seeing to Hermione Granger's studying requirements. She knew that. Nevertheless, she was irritated at sitting idle. It was something she had never done – not to her present memory at least, and was not about to start doing it, too.

She wondered if she could go around the house. It wasn't as if it was a _law_ that she would be breaking by stepping out of her room. Professor Snape, no doubt, wanted all his privacy and so, had told her not to roam around. But that warning had sounds of threat to it, which she did not like and wasn't sure that she wanted to test.

She looked around the room. It was a moderately comfortable room. Liveable, at least. Though the mattress on the bed was thinner than what she was used to and there was no sign of fluffy pillows which she liked, it was 'sufficient'. At least it was better than living all alone in her house.

Though Professor Snape made sure that their paths didn't cross anywhere in this house. She wondered why they would anyway. It was a fairly big house. There seemed to be many, many rooms here. It was an 'old' kind of a house.

_Maybe there is a library here. There always is in such old houses, especially those of aristocratic Purebloods. _

However, she would rather _not _go in the search of that library all alone. Even if she found it, it was one in a thousand chances that she would get in there safely and unscathed. Aristocratic purebloods had a protective – over-protective – attitude towards there knowledge. She learnt about this first time in the Blacks' house. As soon as she had entered the library there, painful blisters had started forming all over her skin and she was thrown out of the room. Later, Remus had explained to her about it. Since then, she had never got a driving urge to break the rules and enter the Restricted Section of Hogwarts Library. Who knew what horrible books there were to be found! She would certainly not want to talk in limericks all her life or _never_ _ever _put down the book she was reading. She loved books, but she wasn't a maniac.

The fire was bright in the grate. She tossed off her shoes and reclined on the bed. Her eyes fell on the full-length mirror in one corner of the room. She was a bit startled. She had not noticed that mirror when she had entered the room.

She got up and stood in front of the full-length mirror, and began surveying herself. She had grown a bit taller and had developed voluptuous contours over the year. She was no longer a small girl, and though she knew it, she really didn't "feel" it. Her hair had become shinier and darker and had somewhat straightened out, so now they seemed wavy rather than bushy but that was only when she had freshly conditioned them. They would turn frizzy again, like they were now, she observed with a frown.

After a while, she went to the window and stood contemplating the dark scenery.

The tall firs, the distant mountains, the sky… all were dark. She smiled slightly as she felt that Snape really suited to this place. It was quiet, regal, and dark and seemed so mysterious.

It was odd how a house suited a person. But even as she stood there, her mind drifting aimlessly, she knew that this wasn't just any house. It was an ancient, majestic manor. She remembered that she had read somewhere, "_If it isn't high and mighty, it doesn't exist"_.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**IV**

Harry _really_ didn't want to be here. He hated this place. _Sirius_ had hated this place. Much as he tried to forget it, he was again and again reminded of it.

Sometimes, in a strange way, he did not want to forget it. For forgetting Sirius' death would mean forgetting Sirius. He could never ever allow that to happen no matter how much pain he had to bear. Why did everyone who ever really cared for him die?

Thinking about people who cared for him…

He pulled out a small parchment from his pocket. It would be wrong to say that he fully trusted Draco. He was still suspicious about that boy. As he had once heard Tonks mutter, _once_ _a_ _Malfoy_ _always_ _a_ _Malfoy_.

Yet, he felt so different about Malfoy now.

He wondered how life would have been if he had accepted Malfoy's hand his first day at Hogwarts. He sighed. He could guess what would have happened. He would have grown to hate the path he had chosen and would start hating Malfoy. He wasn't a dunderhead like Crabbe and Goyle and would certainly not have put up with Draco's bossiness.

But he had refused to be Draco's friend and learnt to hate him anyway. Only now, he was experiencing a strange reversal of feelings which was deeply unsettling. He read the note.

_You can visit "Draco Julius Octavius Antonio Malfoy's" room through Floo if you want. I know you will be all alone this summer._

He and Draco had not parted on friendly terms at the end of this year. Well, he thought stubbornly, it wasn't _his _fault. It was Malfoy who had first addressed him coldly as "Potter". He had reciprocated.

And yet, just as he was about to climb into the carriage which would take them to Hogsmeade station, Draco had pressed this note into his hand.

He debated whether he ought to go or not. He wanted to - very, very much. He was lonely and sick of this place. He was sick of the woman in the portrait who screamed profanities at him for killing her son. He was sick of Remus because he was so damned sad always since Sirius' death. He was sick of Hermione for not writing to him. He was sick of Ron for being so distant the past year. He was sick of Draco for being so confusing.

And he was going to confront him about it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Potter!"

Draco stopped mid-undressing as his fireplace burnt green and a dishevelled Harry Potter stepped out.

"Don't '_Potter'_ me!" he snarled at him.

Draco was startled by his hateful tone. Potter… _Harry_… never sounded like so malicious.

"Nice timing, _Potter_," he said, deliberately emphasizing his name. "I was going to hex the person who was coming here at this time of night. What do you want?'

"Answers!" said Potter, striding up to him.

Draco buttoned up his pyjama shirt and sat down on his bed.

"Fire away, then."

"What the hell is up with you?"

Draco raised a thin brow. "Looking at our present stances, _Potter_, I would say that something the hell is up with _you_."

His hands clenched into fists. "You… you… you…"

"I am still waiting, Potter."

"Why did you give me this when you hate me?" spat out Potter and threw the note at his face.

"I don't hate you," Draco said softly as he tore the note to pieces.

"Yeah, and pigs fly!"

Draco felt long-suppressed jealousy and anger welling up inside him.

"You don't believe me? Well, don't! It's no fault of _mine_ that I do not _lavish_ you with the kind of attentions _dear Ron and Hermione _do!" he spat out angrily.

Harry's anger abated a little. "What?"

"You are frustrated," Draco continued, standing up, "and you will take it out on me. And yet, when it comes to trusting and being friends with, you will go to _dear Ron and Hermione. _Well, you know what? I say you leave a… _Slytherin _like me and go to _dear Ron and Hermione _for all things. I don't care! Because when I _do_ care, you _do not _and are always happy with _dear Ron and Hermione! _It was my mistake that I gave you the Floo Address to my room! Now get out, Harry Potter!"

It was Draco who was shaking with fury now. Harry stepped back.

"Get out!" said Draco, as he pulled out his wand, "else I shall hex you bad – real bad."

"Malfoy… Draco…"

"Don't "Draco" me, Potter," snapped Draco maliciously.

Harry stiffened. He knew that it was all over. How could it not be when Draco looked at him with so much hate?

He turned and went to the fireplace.

Draco threw his wand on one side of the bed and himself on the other. He was so… there was no word for it. He was tired and feeling energy surge through him at the same time.

"Malfoy… don't you have Floo Powder here?"

He groaned as he heard Potter's words. _Oh Merlin! How could I have forgotten that?_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**V**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Severus went down to the kitchen.

"Grish!" he shouted angrily.

A cringing house-elf Apparated there. "Your orders, master?"

"Prepare the dinner after you finish with the work in the attic and give it to that girl upstairs," snarled Severus. "And no need to hurry about it," he added as an afterthought.

"As you command, master."

"And see that she doesn't enter the Dark Room tonight. I'll be working there. If I find her nosing there or anywhere else, I'll cut off your head, do you get that?"

"Yes, master," mumbled Grish.

Severus' face was once more rigid and cool as he went upstairs.

_Stupid chit! _He thought angrily. _One way or the other Dumbledore is going to pay for this!_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione was feeling very restless. There was nothing to do here. She was also very hungry and thirsty. She had thought that Snape would at least be civil enough to do something about dinner. But, no. It seemed as if he had disappeared leaving her all alone in this dark house. She was starting to get annoyed now.

Throwing all caution to wind, she decided she would just step out and find Snape. What could hurt her here anyway?

She went out into the murky corridor.

"_Lumos_," she said quietly. But it didn't seem to work. She tried again, but to no avail.

"I am sure he's doing this on purpose!" she muttered angrily. "Maybe he has put anti-light charms all over the house."

But slowly, her eyes got used to darkness and she could dimly make out the staircase. She groped her way to it. Somewhere above she heard some things fall – it sounded as if someone was in the attic. Was Snape there? She looked up to where the stairs lead further above. But there was nothing except darkness.

She was feeling quite fearful now. She stood there – immobile. She wondered if she ought to return to her room. Snape was probably hoping that she would not be able to come downstairs, and then he won't have to bother about cooking her dinner. For sometime, Hermione stood near the stairs irresolute.

Then she saw something...

There was a lot of light issuing from somewhere on the floor just below hers. That would certainly mean that Snape was there. So he had not expected her to come down to dinner after all.

_But_ _what_ _about_ _the_ _sounds_ _in_ _the_ _attic_? _Maybe_ _he_ _keeps_ _a_ _ghoul_ _there…_ _just like the Weasleys._

Hermione was about to go back to her room, when she heard some people's whispers in the same room from which the light was radiating. Hermione was startled. She had been under the impression that she was alone here with Snape. But surely, that drawling and bass voice was not Snape's. Neither was the high-toned chirpy voice, nor that painfully piercing voice...

Hermione felt a strong urge to investigate further.

_What's going on here? I can't hear Snape's voice. Who are these people then? Or is Snape hiding somebody else in this house. Why didn't anybody tell me, then? Oh Merlin! I am going to find out whether Snape likes it or not._

Hermione stood in front of that closed door. It was now emitting strong purple-blue light as a result of something being done from within. But still Hermione could make out what was written in bold capitals on the door:

**MASTER ARTHINUS SNAPE **

**THE DARK ROOM**

_Ought_ _I to_ _apparate_ _there_? She thought nervously. But then she quit the idea because she didn't know what was in there and this ignorance made her feel somewhat scared. So she reached out for the doorknob...

A shrill scream sounded throughout the Serpentia – Hermione's scream.

As soon as she had touched the doorknob, two large pythons had appeared from nowhere and wound themselves about her. Her wand fell down. She screamed and screamed with pain – it was worse than having the Cruciatus Curse put on her. But the pain had ceased before long – the pythons had bitten her on her neck and she had fallen down, unconscious.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**VI**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Severus started as he heard the piercing scream. He dashed out of the room with only one thought in his mind – that girl had done what he feared – come near this room.

He found that the pythons had bitten her so that she was unconscious. He quickly whipped out his wand and muttered the dark spells to dispel them. It worked. The pythons hissed angrily at him and unwinding themselves from around Granger's body, slithered angrily down the corridor.

Severus was about to follow them when his eyes fell on the unconscious, prostrate form of the girl. With an angry groan and a desperate glance in the direction of the disappearing pythons, he pocketed his wand and kneeled down beside her. Strands of thick brown hair covered her face and neck.

Severus turned her to face him. He pushed back the hair from her neck. Four ugly, blood-stained specks stared at him. Blood was oozing out of them and something like yellow-grey pus was quickly spreading around the wounds.

Severus leaned down and put his lips to Granger's neck to stop the poison from spreading. He sucked out the yellow-grey fluid and spit it out. After doing so about five-six times, he sat up, breathing hard. The girl was still unconscious but he had prevented the worst immediate damage. But he had an uncanny feeling that in the long run, this would not work. The girl was a Muggle-born and hence, the danger in her case was fatal. He would have to start brewing the antidote as soon as possible.

He picked her up in his arms. His eyes lingered on her alabaster neck. It looked… inviting…

_Damn_ _it_! _What_ _am_ _I_ _thinking_! _This_ _is_ _not_ _the_ _time_ _for_ _such_ _folly_! _How_ _very_ _idiotic_ _of_ _me_! he thought angrily. He carried her to her room and set her down on the bed.

_Maybe…_ He pulled out his want once more and tapped the bed with it.

The thin mattress was changed into thick, soft one and squashy, satin pillows adjusted themselves under Granger's head and around her.

Her Muggle attire was replaced by a white nightgown. Severus leaned over and covered her up with the thick, dark covers. Now that he saw her face from so close and in light, he observed that it was white as a sheet. Her lips were strikingly red – in part from the blood that stained them, but more because that was their natural hue. For a moment, Severus felt a strong yearning to kiss her lips.

But it was just for a moment... He moved away from her, and extinguished the fire in the hearth. As he went out of the room, he cast a long, odd glance in her direction.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**VII**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Why don't you have Floo Powder?" asked Harry.

"It disappeared this morning," said Draco, rubbing his head. "I have been in my room all day. I don't know whom to ask. My mother left the manor yesterday. Merlin! How could I have forgotten?"

"Don't tell me you haven't got any in the whole castle!"

"I… I don't think it will be a good idea to wander about the castle at night," said Draco, avoiding his eyes.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Keep quiet and let me think, Potter!" snapped Draco.

"KEEP QUIET! YOU'RE TELLING ME TO KEEP QUIET! I CANNOT GET OUT OF THIS PLACE, AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO KEEP QUIET! WHAT'S THERE TO PROVE THAT YOU'RE FATHER WON'T COME IN AND KILL ME RIGHT NOW!"

Draco pointed his wand at Harry. "Voice down, Potter! My father may not be in the manor – and yet again, he may be! I don't know, so shut the hell up!" he hissed angrily.

"YOU TRAITOR! YOU WERE NOTHING BUT…"

However, Harry could not continue his rant as Draco cast the "_Petrificus Totalus" _on him.

"I am confined to this room with tins of food," said Draco, making a face, "for a few days. I was planning on flying away on a broomstick because everybody thinks that I left with my mother so they won't be searching for me and my mother here.

"And if you are wondering why I did not leave with my mother, then I cannot tell you that. I had to search something for Dumbledore. I noticed some disturbance in the protection charms and came inside this room and warded myself in. We'll be lucky if nobody has heard your ranting."

Harry glared murder at him.

"I had been up all last night, and I plan to get some sleep before I think things through. You can get some sleep here if you promise not to shout. I'll release you now, but remember if you do something stupid, then you will kill both of us!"

With that, Draco muttered the counter-curse.

Harry was furious, but Draco's words made sense to him.

Draco put his wand on the table near the bed and got under the duvet. He looked across at Harry, who was standing sullenly near the mantelpiece.

"This is a king-sized bed, Potter," he said dryly. "You get your own side of it."

Harry didn't move.

"Oh come on, Potter, you might be a celebrity, but you need sleep just as much as I do. And if not bed, then there's floor. The choice is yours."

Draco muttered a charm to extinguish the candles and the fire. Soon the room was enveloped in darkness and only faint light of the half-moon came in through the large window opposite the bed.

Harry looked on sullenly at the sleeping form of Draco Malfoy. He was in a real fix this time. Surely, someone would notice that he was missing from the Grimmauld Place. Remus would, he was sure. And they would go around searching for him, won't they? Surely, Dumbledore would think of the Malfoy Manor. Someone would do something before long, wouldn't they? Wouldn't they?

However, he wasn't going to rely on them. He was angry with them and did not really need their help. Sirius was the only one who ever cared about him. They really didn't care about him now. All they cared was for him defeating Voldemort because of the Prophecy.

He would get out of here. Damn Lucius Malfoy and the Death-Eaters! He had won over Voldemort four times and his feet-kissers were nothing – he had faced them and come out alive. He would come out alive yet again.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Some time in the night, when Draco was truly asleep and not just pretending to be, Harry reluctantly took off his jumper and got into the bed.

Tomorrow. He would escape tomorrow.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**VIII**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Severus twitched his fingers nervously, but his face was perfectly inexpressive.

Eventually, Madam Bones' voice broke the tense silence.

"Who are in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?" To Severus' relief more than half the members raised their hands. Maybe he was being more pessimistic than he was supposed to.

"Professor Severus Snape, you are cleared of all charges," said Fudge, frowning at his smirking face.

Outside, Dumbledore was waiting for him. "Severus, about Miss Granger…"

"She's fine," lied Severus, "quite well – nothing to trouble about at all and not as unpleasant as I had perceived."

"I am glad you find it so," said Dumbledore.

Severus remembered the prostrate form he had seen the night before, the ashen face – bloodless, which might have been lifeless - and gazed guiltily at the retreating figure of Albus Dumbledore.

He couldn't tell Dumbledore what had happened because that would mean he had Zaileions-pythons still living in his house. He had previously told Dumbledore that these had been destroyed. Telling Dumbledore the truth now would mean telling him that he had previously told him a string of lies.

_No_, thought Severus. There was no reason to do so if everything could be finished quietly and secretly. He would make sure that Granger didn't babble about the incident – but he just didn't know how. He would threaten her, perhaps. But no, she wasn't the kind of person who could be intimidated and he knew it.

Well, he still had a month and a half to worry about it. He would find some way. Presently, he had to hurry to Serpentia and see if the girl was awake. A Zaileion-python bite wasn't quite the thing he'd want to happen to – anyone.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**IX**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He glanced at the Muggle clock that Arthur Weasley had put up in the kitchen. Then he looked around the kitchen itself.

There were many Order members there tonight. He could slip out easily.

Putting on his cloak, he went out into the dismal street. In another moment, he had disappeared.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"How's it going?"

The blonde man started and turned around. "You! What are you doing here, now?

"I came to see how it was progressing. What have you found?"

"Nothing much till now. I am still searching through her notes. I know she kept a journal, but I haven't found it as yet."

"How long will this take?"

The blonde sighed. "You do understand that it isn't a matter of a few days or even a few weeks. It all depends on what we find of my wife's notes." Then after a pause, he continued, "This… research can bring about a tremendous change in the wizarding world."

"You are not telling about it to anyone. Least of all to Dumbledore, you understand?"

"I do. I know the repercussions of such things. However, no one can be too careful."

"You can be. You have been all these years. You have succeeded, too. I do not want anyone in the Ministry or anywhere else to know about this."

The man nodded.

"Is there anything you require in the way of money?"

"Not now."

With a slight inclination of his head, the man turned and left the place.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Once outside the Ministry building, he took off his hood and cloak and cast some glamour charms on himself. Though he was in Muggle London, his appearance was not such as to allow mixing up in Muggles. He was a pureblood, but he had often required to go among the non-magical people. He was used to it.

Though they never noticed who was dressed "oddly" (as he felt people with multi-coloured hair and clothes ought to be called), but they did notice someone who had a different aura… who dressed completely differently. He thought of his grey robes and sharp features. Definitely, they would notice him. And he certainly could not risk it.

He wasn't supposed to be here in the first place. He was supposed to be in the Grimmauld Place, but he didn't want to be there now. He had never ever wanted to be there. The place reeked of darkness. He wondered how a Gryffindor like Sirius Black had ever tolerated it for the early years of his life.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**X**

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Hermione felt her head would burst with the pain. But she slowly opened her eyes. At first she wondered where she was, but then all of it came back to her...

"Don't try to get up unless you want to die an early death, Granger," the cold voice of Snape sounded so near that Hermione was startled. She turned her head slightly. Snape was sitting in a chair near her bed and was surveying her with his rigid glance. She sensed that she was just wearing a flimsy nightgown, and somehow it made her feel peculiarly vulnerable, exposed, defenceless...

She wished he would not look at her like that – it somehow made her nervous and a queer feeling clinched her. This feeling was growing so strong that she couldn't bear it.

"I'd rather that you'd not look at me so," she blurted out without thinking.

"You aren't particularly beautiful, Miss Granger. So it couldn't be that I was staring at you for my pleasure. I was looking at the bite on your neck. It needs a lot more treatment, or else..."

Hermione turned a fearful gaze on him. "Or else, what?"

"Manners, Granger."

"Or else, what?" repeated Hermione, fearing the worst. "Am I going to die? Was it that fatal?"

Snape didn't reply immediately, but regarded her with that same look, which made her feel – so strange. At length, he spoke, slowly and spitefully, "Your imagination is too fantastic for reality. But for once, Miss Granger, you have hit the nail on the head. Yes, two pythons bit you, and that was very dangerous – lethal. I have no mind to see you die here, and sully my home. As it is, the mere presence of one like you has dirtied it enough!"

Even as he spoke the bitter words, he knew that he was just trying to assure himself that he didn't feel what he thought he felt for that girl. He wanted to hate her, loathe her.

"I assure you it is being done very unwillingly!" she returned far more viciously.

Suddenly, she felt a great hatred for Snape. He was so rude, so evil, and so malicious! It won't kill him if he controlled his viciousness before her – now when she had been fatally wounded. But no! He seemed to be determined to kill her with his hatred. What had she done to him? Her only fault was that she was Harry's best friend – and also, perhaps, a Gryffindor. But it was just her luck that she was so. And he hated her for something only her fate was responsible. As these thoughts rushed upon Hermione, she grew angry. She didn't care to call him 'sir' or 'professor'. He didn't deserve it!

Severus didn't snap back. His was not the way of throwing insults and starting verbal duels.

_But_, he thought, _this_ _girl_ _is_ _no_ _enemy_. _She's_ _a_ _mere_ _nobody_ – _an_ _inexperienced_ _young_ _creature_ _with_ _a_ _swollen_ _head_. _It_ _would_ _be_ _a_ _disgrace to even actually _'_loathe'_ _a_ _chicken_ _like_ _her_!

_Maybe_ _you_ _don't_ '_loathe'_ _her_ _because_ _you_ '_lust'_ _after_ _her_.

Severus paled slightly as the counter-voice popped up in his head. He was not going to lust after a student. It was despicable. He was not going to betray Dumbledore's trust. But her lips did look…

For a moment, it seemed that he would bend close to her, but in another moment he had recovered his senses and got up. He went and stood near the mantelpiece – where Granger could not see him. He was breathing hard. Hermione closed her eyes.

Was it true or was she getting delirious – for a moment it had seemed that Snape was actually going to kiss her!

_I am imagining things! It's the effect of the pythons' venom_! she thought determinedly. But then why had he stood up and walked off? Surely, there must have been _something_...

Hermione groaned. The pain was increasing very rapidly. She wished Snape would do something about it.

"Professor Snape!" she said hoarsely. Her neck was paining like hell. He was once again standing near her, but his eyes were very expressionless. Hermione didn't consider this, though. The pain had spread throughout her body and it seemed to be killing her.

Hermione was whimpering and withering in pain. Snape filled something from a green phial in a silver goblet kept on the table. Then he sat down on her bed and helped her to a sitting posture. Still supporting her with his left arm, he held the goblet to her lips. Though he commanded her, "Drink it!" he, himself, forced the fluid in her mouth.

Hermione spluttered most of it – it was the bitterest thing she had tasted in her life. But the little of it which she had swallowed, worked really fast. The pain had already started lessening. Hermione fell limply against Severus and closed her eyes. All her energy, it felt, had been drained out of her. She felt she would drift off to sleep when she felt Snape's fingers push back her hair and feel her neck.

With what energy she could muster, she pushed him away. But he was much too powerful for her feeble strength. "I am not killing you, Granger," she heard him say. "If you don't let me treat your wounds the hard way now, you'll suffer later."

She opened her eyes with a great effort. "Hard way?" she murmured, looking up at him.

Unconsciously, she had put her arms around his neck for support. Severus flinched a little, but let them rest there.

"It'll pain a lot and use a lot of your energy. But even if you are unwilling, you've got to go through it. You are not dying here, I assure you!" as he said the last words, his grip around her shoulders tightened, and he seemed to succumb to a curious desire to kiss her…

Hermione saw Severus bend closer to her – and closer yet... With his arms about her, she was feeling very nice and warm. She tried to snuggle closer, but found she couldn't move. Severus, perhaps realizing what she wanted, pulled her nearer and his quivering lips found Hermione's. Hermione didn't know if she wanted to kiss him or not...

Nevertheless, that didn't matter, she did not have the energy to push him away and her head was very muddled. She yielded without any effort. She vaguely thought that she liked his lips.

Severus was holding her tight, but it didn't pain her. Hermione felt he wanted to deepen the kiss, but she didn't want to. She tried to withstand him, and felt all her strength drain out of her. Now she felt that she had no choice. It felt as if Severus was making her do what he wanted. She was feeling very faint. She had to give up resisting him... She felt his fingers grab her hair and then move down her back. She shuddered involuntarily.

Before fainting, she could just remember that all of a sudden he had pulled away from her, and abruptly letting go of her, let her fall listlessly to the bed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

** I hope the shift of POVs aren't confusing. **


End file.
